


Foot the Bill with Blood

by 217



Category: Lawless (2012)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-13
Updated: 2016-07-29
Packaged: 2018-07-14 20:23:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 12
Words: 34,277
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7188767
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/217/pseuds/217
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The only thing that spreads faster than white lightning in Franklin County is gossip. Six years later I've returned and it's worse than ever. I quickly learn that gossip is the least of my concerns. Forrest Bondurant / OC</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**A/N I realize I'm a few years late with this. It starts a bit before the movie takes place.** **I don't own these characters other than my own. Told by the OC's point of view. I tried it with Forrest, but he's just too impassive, and I got bored, lol. Links to reference pictures for the OC's are on my profile if anyone is interested. A line break will signify a day or few days have passed. Three dots will signify a few hours have passed.**

* * *

October 1929

* * *

I pat my bloody cheek with the cloth, flinching at the familiar feeling.

"Charlotte," Daddy screams at me.

"You're not getting the rest of that booze. It's all gone, you hear? Every last bottle. Now keep your voice down, you'll scare Lorelai." I hear several things fall to the ground and scatter about. I'm sure he's passed out again. You'd think by now he'd quit hiding the key to his shed in that stupid hollowed out book. He isn't fooling anyone. Maybe he thought I wouldn't remember. It has been 6 years since I've been home. Nothing's changed. Hell, as soon as I got off that train the men were already giving me looks like I was as easy as my older sister Elizabeth.

"What happened to your cheek?" Lorelai asks, staring at me in the mirror.

I pull the cloth down and give her a soft smile. "Hungry?"

She eagerly nods, licking her lips.

"Go get the eggs from the chickens," I tell her, steering her outback through the hall so she doesn't see him passed out in the kitchen. I make sure she's occupied with her task before I go tend to him on the floor. "Pathetic excuse for a man," I murmur, taking him by the wrist and dragging him into the living room. It isn't easy, but I manage to get him on the couch, then cover him up with a blanket. Just in time, too.

"Daddy still sick?"

"Let's let him rest. Come on now." I suppose it's a rather silly thing to keep her in the dark about his drinking. After all, she is going on 17, but Daddy is perfect in her eyes and I'm not going to take that from her. A knock at the door startles both of us. "Are you expecting anyone?"

Lorelai shakes her head no and walks over to answer the door. "Hi," she smiles at the guest.

I grab a few things in the icebox before I focus in my attention on the conversation.

"No, Daddy's not feelin' real well today."

I grab the doorknob and yank it open. "What do you want with Ray?" I narrow my eyes, looking the boy over.

He's as nervous as they come, stuttering over his words.

My eyes glance down at Lorelai then back at him. Seems Lorelai has caught this young man's attention. "Are you just going to stand there and gawk at my sister or tell me what it is you came here for?"

"Charlotte," Lorelai whines embarrassed.

He blinks hard and snaps out of it. "Uh, Ray's, I have his." He cuts his own self off and points to the truck he arrived in.

"Lorelai, go wash up for breakfast."

"But-"

"Now!"

"Nice to meet you," Lorelai smiles at the boy.

I step outside and slam the door.

It startles him. He swallows hard, taking a clumsy step back.

"You're a Bondurant, aren't you?"

He nods nervously.

"Yeah, I know your stench. You listen to me. If you ever come back here again and try to sell to Ray, I will kill you. Do you understand me? That goes for your stupid brothers, too. Don't let me find any one of you sniffing around here!"

"I, uh-"

"Invincible my ass," I snap, going inside and slamming the door shut.

* * *

"The funeral service was real nice," Lorelai comments.

I'm always deflecting conversation like this. "Check on Daddy, would you?"

There's a knock at the door.

"I got it!"

"No. You check on Daddy, and stay in the house."

"Oh, alright," Lorelai pouts, starting for the living room.

"May I help you?"

"Ray home?" a tall gentleman asks.

Bondurants. What nerve. I fold my arms.

"Howard," he introduces himself, "I don't think we-"

"I know who you are!" My scowl is as apparent as the disgust in my voice. I don't know how he's even able to stand with all that alcohol on his breath.

"Elizabeth inside?" he smirks.

"Police found her body outback Earl's general store few days ago."

"Sorry to hear that."

"I bet you are." Howard was one of my sisters 'customers' as she called them in her letters to me. I eye over the middle Bondurant Forrest.

"Run along now'n fetch Ray," Forrest mumbles, shifting his toothpick to the other side of his mouth.

"Yeah, I'll do just that," I tell him, going back inside. I pull the shot gun from the mantle and get Daddy's six shooter as well. This house has no shortage of guns and I'm not playing games with these boys.

"You fuckin' kiddin' me?" Howard shouts.

"Why don't you try something and find out?"

"Calm down now. It ain't gotta be like this," Forrest referees.

I press the shot gun against his stomach.

It knocks his ragged hat out of his hand. "Look, Ray and I go back a ways. Now our brother here took it upon himself to come here yesterday-"

"I will pull this trigger if you don't get off my porch."

Forrest puts his hands out, kneeling down some to pick up his hat.

I stomp on the hat, dragging it across the porch to me. "That's mine now."

The front door opens and Lorelai pokes her head out.

"Get back in the house," I yell at her.

Howard uses my distraction to his advantage and takes a step forward. Foolish choice.

I fire the small six shooter in my other hand right near his feet. "You think this is a joke?"

Forrest stops him from doing anything crazy, or being killed, and they start back for their truck.

"Some nerve," I mumble, bringing the hat back inside with me, setting everything on the kitchen table.

"I want to go to town," Lorelai whines. You'd think she was a child acting like this.

"How much money will you need?"

"Fifty-five cents."

"That's an awful lot for a picture."

"I wanted to get snacks!"

I know it reminds her of New York before we were forced to come back here. "I have a dollar in my purse. Be back before sundown."

"Thanks, Charlotte," she giggles.

That and it gets her away from Daddy. Too drunk to even go to his oldest daughter's funeral.

"Charlotte," he slurs from the living room.

"Hold on," I snap, watching Lorelai go down the road. I can't wait to leave this place. As soon as Elizabeth's affairs are taken care of, we're gone. I'm sure she's going to wipe me clean with the debts she owes around town. "Ow," I cry when I'm slammed into the doorframe.

"First my whisky, now my guns!"

I shove him off me. "I wouldn't have to take either if you'd be a man!"

He shakes Forrest's hat at me. "You screwing up my business, or just screwing him?"

"How dare you treat me like I'm Elizabeth."

"You ain't taking Lorelai back with you this time. She's all I've got now!"

"Try and stop me."

He presses the six shooter to my throat, spitting in my face. "You leave this house with her, and I'll kill you. Or maybe I'll just kill you-" He turns his attention out the door when several trucks pull up in the driveway. "Shit," he yells, running for the living room, only to be close lined by a man that's managed to sneak into our house.

My eyes shift over to the shotgun on the kitchen table as I slowly inch over to it while the men start to scuffle.

"Move towards that gun, you're dead."

I ease my hand back down to my side. I'm forced into our living room and sat down in our recliner.

The men from the truck start to fill the house.

I count eleven.

They waste no time delivering a brutal beating to Daddy.

I've never seen him beg until that day.

He's shot five times in the face.

The sound of the gun startles me more than his sudden death. Good riddance.

"How do you know, Ray?" he asks, cleaning the blood from his shoes.

"He's my... father."

"Good. Save me the trouble of finding you in New York."

H- How does he know that?

"You Lorelai?"

"No, I'm Charlotte."

"Bring the other girl in here."

My eyes widen as I watch them force Lorelai in by her hair. "No," I beg.

He points the gun at me.

My eyes well up from her screams. No, god, no!

Lorelai is shoved into me. "Daddy," she sobs.

I pull Lorelai in my arms, covering her eyes.

"My name is William Mason. Your father owes me seven hundred dollars. I want my money, and you're going to get it."

"I only have ninety dollars." It's our money to get back home. "In my purse."

His men are already ahead of me. "Ninety-six." One of the men hands Mr. Mason the money.

He shakes the money at me. "I'm going to take this for the trouble to come out here. Seven hundred dollars. You get me my money, I'll even be the nice one and pay for your train ride back home. But if you try anything like running back to New York." He puts another bullet in Daddy.

Lorelai starts to sob against my hand.

"Please be quiet," I beg her. "I'll get you the money, I just need some time."

"Boys," he tells them.

I lock the door after they leave as if it's going to stop them.

"Daddy, wake up," Lorelai sobs into his shirt.

I shake my head looking at his body on the floor. "You bastard," I whisper.

* * *

Elizabeth's debts will have to wait. We bury Daddy on a Tuesday. No one came, not that I expected anyone to. All I can think about is where I can come up with that much money. It will take me a lifetime to earn. If it were just me, I'd run, but I can't do that with Lorelai. I'll need to find work. Set aside as much money as I can. Luckily the house is paid for. About the only good thing he ever did. I can stretch our grocery money pretty far. It's going to be alright. I have to think like that.

* * *

"Did you find a job today?"

No, and it's been almost a week. "Don't worry about things like that. Sit down and eat your supper." I look out the kitchen window, staring into the woods. I'm always paranoid that one of Mr. Mason's men is coming for us.

"The Bondurant's need someone to tend to the station."

I narrow my eyes. "Who told you that?"

"No one, just gossip."

"Tomorrow we'll go into town and check a few places. Now finish your supper. I'm not going to tell you again."

* * *

"Hello, I was wondering if I could-"

"Slaughter girls ain't welcome here."

I push my eyebrows together. I'm completely speechless.

"Go on now or I'll call someone to take you and that little-"

"Thank you for your time," I talk over her, going outside.

"No luck?"

"They weren't needing any help. Listen to me, you stay out of that store, okay?"

Lorelai nods her head and thankfully doesn't ask why.

I reach into my bag and hand her a nickel. "Go get some ice cream, then wait for me in the truck."

"Thanks, Charlotte," she smiles, heading down the street.

I press my hand to my brow, checking out a few of the stores in the distance. The clothing store is hiring.

The lady turns her nose up at my ragged boots, pointing at the door.

"Please," I beg, "I'll work holidays, weekends–"

"Perhaps you'd be more comfortable elsewhere. There's no work for women like you here." She dismisses me with a flick of her wrist.

I lower my eyes and leave the store. "Damn you, Elizabeth," I curse, walking back to the truck.

"You didn't get it, did you?"

"I have to check back in a week or so. Why didn't you get ice cream?"

"I knew you liked chocolate bars better."

I break off a small piece and let out a sigh. "They wouldn't serve you at the ice cream shop, would they?"

"No, and they called me a nasty name in front of some of the other girls. Everyone had a real good laugh."

"Come here," I stretch out my arms as she scoots over, "you pay no mind to them, you hear?"

"Why is everyone so mean to us? If they just got to know us–"

"They don't want to know us, Lorelai but it isn't anything you've done."

Lorelai starts to sob. "I hate Elizabeth!"

I hold Lorelai close and run my fingers through her blonde hair.

"Let's leave. Tonight!"

"You let me worry about money. Have I ever let us down?"

She sits up and wipes her face. "No."

I start the truck and steal another piece of her chocolate, but she just stares blankly out the window. However, I have a trick up my sleeve to make her smile. "Once I lived the life of a millionaire, spending my money, I didn't care," I sing. She continues to ignore me, so I sing even louder. "I carried my friends out for a good time, buying bootleg liquor, champagne, and wine."

"Charlotte, stop."

"Then I began to fall so low, I didn't have a friend and no place to go."

Lorelai's lip curls upward.

I knew she couldn't hold out for long. Especially singing some Bessie Smith. "So if I ever get my hand on a dollar again."

She starts to laugh. "I'm gonna hold on to it till them eagle's grin."

I laugh with her as we both finish the song, trying to overpower each other. Neither of us had a singing bone in our bodies.

"I love you, Charlotte."

"I love you, too, Lorelai."

* * *

We're down to ten cents. Ten. If I don't do something, Mr. Mason won't need to because we're going to starve to death. I pawn Daddy's six shooter. It's a measly fifteen dollars, but that will get us by at least for another month. I went to the bank today to see if I could sell our house. Don't really know why I didn't think of it sooner, not like it's worth much though. The house is in Daddy's name, therefore I can't, and if I tell them he's passed, they'll take the house. Same story with the car. I was able to sell some things in the house, but Lorelai got sick last week and I had to take her to the Doctor. No matter what I do, it's two steps back. I'm beginning to think that running isn't such a bad idea after all. Either wait here to die, or die out there. "Come on, Lorelai. Let's go for a ride."

...

I let out a sigh, looking down at Forrest's hat in my hand.

"Are you gonna get out?" Lorelai asks.

"Yeah," I murmur, opening the door of the truck, "stay here."

Forrest is sitting on the porch, smoking a cigar. He stands up slowly, looking at me like he's seen a ghost.

I gesture the hat at him.

He points to the railing on the porch.

"I wanted a moment of your time," I say, setting the hat on the railing.

"I recall wantin' a moment of your time couple weeks ago. Only it went somethin' like this." He pulls out a gun, pointing it at me.

I put my hands out as if I expect to deflect the bullets.

"No, don't hurt my sister," Lorelai begs, wrapping her arms around me.

Forrest quickly lowers his gun.

"I told you to wait in the truck," I scold Lorelai, moving her behind me.

Lorelai moves her head out from behind me. "Please, let her work for you!"

"In the truck, now," I snap under my breath.

"I was just tryin' to help," she pouts, stomping back.

I wait until she closes the door before I turn back around.

"So you come around here lookin' for work?"

"That's right."

"Howard's been pacin' the floor, waitin' for his turn to get back at you for the disrespect you showed us at your house. I can't help you. Go on now before he hears you out here."

"Please, Mr. Bondurant, I-"

"I said go on now or your sister will have to drive herself home."

"You think I'm scared of you? Tell your stupid brother he knows where to find me if he really wanted to get even."

"Mmhm," he grunts.

"I knew I was wasting my time," I mumble, heading back to the truck.

"What'd he say?"

I don't respond to her and start back for our house.

She asks again but I pay her no mind. "What're you mad at me for?"

I come to a screeching halt. "Didn't I tell you to stay in the truck? Lorelai, when I tell you something, you listen to me!"

"You don't have to yell! You're such a grouch. If you hadn't of been so rude to them in the first place, they might of hired you," she yells, getting out of the truck and running off into the woods.

If Elizabeth hadn't gone and shamed our name, I could have got a job. If Daddy would have been a man, I wouldn't need one to fix his debt. I learned long ago, feeling sorry for yourself don't change a thing. I run my hands down my face and let out a deep breath. "Dammit." I pull the truck over on the side of the road and get out to go look for her.

...

Six exhausting hours later and I still haven't found her. I decide to head back to the house, hoping she got a ride back. "Lorelai," I yell, running in the house. "Oh gosh," I frown, rubbing my brow. Lights from a truck brighten the kitchen. I open the door, going outside.

The truck door opens and Lorelai appears.

I let out a sigh of relief and run over to her, pulling her into my arms. "I was so worried!"

"I'm alright."

Someone else gets out of the truck.

I become enraged. "How dare you show your face around here," I yell at the youngest Bondurant.

"Charlotte, stop! You're embarrassing me! Jack brought me home."

"You stay the hell away from my sister," I threaten, and then I realize Jack isn't driving.

The driver side door opens as my eyes shift over to it. "Jack, get'n the truck," Forrest demands.

I know I ran my mouth but I'm a little relieved that it isn't Howard.

"Goodnight, Jack," Lorelai smiles.

Jack tips his hat. "Night, Miss Slaughter."

A Bondurant with manners? What a surprise. "Go wash up for supper," I tell Lorelai, keeping my eyes locked on Forrest.

Jack yells at Forrest to hurry up before he shuts his door.

"Thank you for bringing her home, let me give you some money for the trouble."

Forrest shakes his head no, taking a long puff on his cigar before taking it from his mouth. "I suggest you be at the station before sun up."

"What changed your mind?"

"You ain't got the job yet. Let's see how well you follow these here instructions first."

"Alright then."

"Mmhm," he grunts, heading back to the truck, "before sunup, or don't bother comin' at all."

I suppose I could have thanked him but don't understand why he changed his mind. Guess it doesn't really matter. I have a job.


	2. Chapter 2

"Don't do this," I yell when the truck won't start. I'm not mechanically inclined. Not even close, yet I find myself inspecting the engine. I suppose I could walk, but that's going to take me over an hour. The sun is already coming over the horizon. Why bother? By some divine miracle and one kick to the door later, the truck starts. I'm certain I'll end up with a flat tire, but luck is on my side again and I finally pull into Blackwater Station. I open the creaky screen door up as it quickly slams shut behind me catching my heels. "Hello?"

"You're late," Forrest grumbles from a dark corner of the station, the cloud of smoke giving his location away. "What was the one thing I told you?"

"I know what you said. I had some car trouble. It was out of my control."

Forrest stands up and walks towards me. His footsteps echo through the empty station.

The noise makes me cringe, especially since it's coming from him.

He moves his eyes downward and they stop at my boots. "Mmhm," he grunts, cocking his head.

I can't tell if he's displeased by them. I fidget with my hands uncomfortable. I've always worn men's work boots. They're comfortable and practical. I couldn't walk in heels if I tried. I guess it does look a little funny with my dress but I'm not trying to impress anyone.

Forrest tells me the things expected, or rather, points to objects and mumbles.

It isn't a hard job by any means. Don't ask questions, serve the people, and keep down stairs. In fact, it is rather dull so it makes for a long day.

…

"Hi, Miss Slaughter," a boy greets me.

I don't remember someone ever using Miss and Slaughter in the same sentence to me. "Uh, hi."

"Name's Cricket."

"Your name is Cricket?"

"Yes, Ma'am. Forrest ask I look at your truck. Runnin' brand new now. Just a few things needed cleanin'."

I'm a little taken back by the gesture. "Thank you, Cricket. How much do I owe you?"

He smiles ear to ear. "No charge, Miss Slaughter."

"Well, thank you again."

Just as quick as he showed up, he's gone again.

I tidy up a bit and finally end my first day, heading for my truck.

"Be on time tomorrow," Forrest tells me.

I swallow my pride and apologize to him but he doesn't pay it any mind. I also thank him for my truck.

"Mmhm," he mumbles, taking a drink from his cup, then gesturing it out at me.

"It's full."

"And cold."

I try not to seem so irritated and go back inside to make more. It's his own damn fault the coffee is cold to begin with. It just makes me angry the more time I spend thinking about it because I have to do whatever he says and he knows that. "It's hot, be careful," I instruct as if I cared if he burned himself.

"Your concern ain't necessary."

I don't think I can do this job but I know I have to. For Lorelai.

"Get on now before I find somethin' else you've gone'n made a mess of."

I'll find work elsewhere. I yank the cigar from between his lips and put it out in his coffee.

He is completely speechless. Not even some incoherent mumble.

I don't say anything else to him and head right to my truck.

* * *

"Charlotte?" Lorelai calls.

"I'm in here."

"I don't wanna come in there."

Of course. I stand up from cleaning out Daddy's dresser and find her in tears on the floor in the hallway. "It's okay," I assure her, kneeling down beside her. I hold her in my arms while she cries.

"You ain't sad Daddy's gone?"

"I get sad when I see you upset and know I can't do anything to make it better."

"You've always been the strong one. I've never even seen you cry."

"I just deal with things differently than you do, that's all."

"Are we ever going back to New York? I miss it there. There's just sadness here now."

"We will. Right now I need to make some money for Daddy's business partners."

"We could run away!"

"His friends would find us, they're real smart. It won't be long. I promise."

"Could Jack come when we do?"

I jerk her out in front of me. "Lorelai, you listen to me and you listen to me well. That boy is trouble. You are not to see him, do you understand me?"

"But, I like him. He's nice to me."

"He's nice to you because he wants something from you."

"Like sex?"

"Yes, are you listening to what I'm saying to you?"

"We already did that and he's still nice."

I cover my face. "Oh, gosh," I sigh into my hands.

"Are you mad at me?"

"Lorelai, you stay away from Jack!"

"And what if I don't?" Here it comes. One of her famous temper tantrums. She starts screaming, throwing herself around dramatic as ever.

Come to think of it, Jack sees one of these and I might not have to worry.

"This is not fair!"

"You need to calm down."

"No!"

"Get back here!" If it's one thing I'm not doing, it's chasing after her this time. Maybe it's wrong but I've got to realize I'm not her mother. Still, it's difficult for me to see her make such foolish choices. Especially because I raised her better than this. I let out a sigh and go back to cleaning out that room hoping to find more things to sell.

* * *

I can already see how displeased Forrest is as I near the station.

He stands up and walks towards me, one of his hands in the pocket of his faded cardigan.

"I'm not apologizing for what I did." Well, we're off to a great start. Maybe I should work on just keeping my mouth shut.

"That so?"

"You heard me." I tried. Okay, not really.

His eyes shift away from me as he looks down the road. "Mmhm."

I still don't understand if that sound means anything.

Forrest holds out his coffee cup.

I reach out to take it as he holds onto it, his eyes locking with mine. "Are you going to let go?" I'm pretty sure he wanted to give me an ultimatum like if I ever talk to him that way again I'd be gone, but he didn't.

Just another grunt as his eyes return to the road.

As the coffee brews, I open some of the windows in the station. It's pretty mild today for it being as late in the year as it is.

Forrest shuffles in the station, digging in his pocket for something.

I know he can't be that much older than I am, why does he walk like an old man? From the stories I've heard, he's quite the brute. Suppose I should get him his coffee before he has a chance to open his mouth. The man wastes more than he drinks. "Here," I tell him, handing him a box and setting his cup on the bar.

He takes it, looking at it curiously. "Where'd you find this?" he asks, opening it.

"It belonged to Ray."

He pulls a cigar out of the box. "Ray know you call him by his first name?"

"He prefers it that way."

"Why is that?"

"Your concern isn't necessary," I repeat what he told me the other day.

Forrest sets the box on the bar. "You take Ray back this box."

I'm surprised to find out Forrest didn't hear of his death. Gossip seems to travel faster than white lightning around these parts.

Forrest goes into his office and shuts the door.

I grab the box and look it over, then toss it in the trash, starting my day.

...

"Are my fuckin' eyes deceiving me?" Howard snaps, stepping in the station.

"You leave her alone now," Forrest tells him.

I set Howard a plate on the bar and put some eggs on it.

He walks over and drags his hand across the bar, flinging everything to the floor. "You best be leavin' right now!"

Forrest stands up and yanks him from the station.

I listen to the two of them yell for a bit, then walk over to clean the mess Howard made. We're somehow going to have to come to a mutual understanding because I'm not going anywhere. We don't have to like each other but if this keeps up, people aren't going to have anything to eat off of.

Forrest squats down next to me.

"I can do this myself," I assure him.

He keeps cleaning despite what I've told him. "Howard don't want you here."

"Really? I couldn't tell," I mutter, standing up.

"Listen here," he starts, getting to his feet, "you need this job more than you think you do. Leave Howard alone. Fix him his food'n keep your head down doin' it, you hear?"

Being put in your place is a funny thing. "Yes."

"He don't eat eggs. Grits'n toast."

"And you?"

"You don't worry 'bout me."

I nod and go back behind the bar to fix Howard's food.

...

When he comes back in the station, I mind Forrest and turn away from Howard. I glance up in the mirror above the grill to find him looking over his food. Surprisingly, he eats it all so I make him another bowl.

"Thought I told you to take this box to Ray?" Forrest says, pulling it from the trash.

"Uh," I stammer, looking at the box.

"Ray's gonna need a bigger box than that," Howard laughs, getting up from the bar and going on the porch.

Forrest looks confused.

"Ray passed away," I inform him.

"Sorry," Forrest murmurs.

I walk over and jerk the box from his hand. "Well, I'm not," I snap, throwing the box back into the trash. I don't want his or anyone else's sympathy. As I clean up Howard's dishes, I notice Forrest reach into his pocket and pull out some money.

He sets a five dollar bill on the counter, then takes the box from the trash again.

I don't know what he wants that thing for. It's damn near forty years old.

"Ray in any kind of trouble? Maybe trouble you're havin' to deal with?"

"No," I lie, taking the money from the counter.

"Hmm."

How did he figure that out? Then again, Forrest isn't dumb by any means. I turn away from him and start a pot of stew for later, hoping he'll leave me alone. I hear his office door shut as I sigh relieved, although I notice he's left more money on the counter. It's twenty-seven dollars. I close my eyes and take a deep breath, pocketing the money quickly. I feel degraded having a Bondurant pity me. The door opens and in walks a few customers. Guess there's no time to dwell on it.

* * *

"I think I figured out a way to work out our differences," Howard simpers, looking me up and down.

"Yeah? You eager to finish what we started on my porch?"

"Christ, woman, you gotta lighten up. You know, Elizabeth used to treat me real good," he smirks, leaning back in his chair as he tugs on his pants.

I rip his cigar from his mouth and put it out in the ashtray, getting right in his face while I do it. "Real good? You sound like a dumb hick. The word you're looking for is well. Learn to speak to a woman before you expect anything from her."

Forrest snickers, shaking his head.

I lean over and take his cigar from his mouth, too. "I don't know what you're laughing about. At least I can understand his bad grammar when he speaks."

Forrest loses his grin and narrows his eyes at Howard.

"The fuck you lookin' at me for?" Howard snarls.

Both men jump up and start to wrestle around.

I grab them both by the collars. "Take it outside." I swear, men are all the same when they get a little white lightning in them.

Howard breaks free and stomps to the front door, flinging it open.

Forrest fixes his cardigan, clearing his throat. He seems embarrassed.

I lean over and get his hat for him.

He rips it out of my hand, giving me a glare as he slips it on.

"You have something to say?" I ask, folding my arms.

"Mmhm," he grunts, going into his office.

"Bunch of babies," I mumble.

* * *

I look up from scrubbing the counter tops at Forrest.

He's been working on his books for over an hour.

I make him a fresh pot of coffee and bring him a cup. "Why don't you take a break?"

He grunts, closing the book.

I set the cup on the table and sit down next to him.

His eyes slowly move upward. "Don't you have work to do?"

"Look around? No one's been in here for two hours. I've practically scrubbed the finish off these counters. Why don't you get some rest? I can finish up here-"

"No, ain't none of your business what's in these here books."

My eyes shift away from him as I nod and get up to find something to occupy my time with. Guess I could clean off the salt shakers. I haven't done that since this morning. I'm thankful for my job but I wonder why they keep me around to do nothing.

The door opens and in walks two men.

Finally. "Have a seat wherever you like." I walk over when they've sat down. "You gentleman hungry or did you jus-"

The older man's dirty fingers tug at the hem of my dress. "How 'bout some company?"

I take hold of his wrist and dig my fingernails into him. "I guarantee you I'm not the kind of company you're going to like." I release my hold, shoving his arm to the side. "Now, let me get you two some coffee and a slice of pie."

"Bitch," he mumbles as I walk back behind the bar.

"Watch how you speak to her," Forrest threatens.

I didn't expect Forrest to stand up for me.

"You're a Slaughter, ain't you?" the older man asks.

"I am."

They laugh amongst themselves for a bit. "I didn't know Blackwater Station was rentin' out whores."

Forrest stands up as I put my hand out. "What did you just call me?" I ask him, slamming down the plates of pie.

"I bet you're even easier than Elizabeth was." He's pulled out a gun, putting the tip to my thigh as it creeps upward.

The young man gets to his feet and points a gun at Forrest as he walks over to him.

I grab the fork off the table and jab it into my assailant's throat.

He drops his gun, grabbing his throat.

Forrest knocks the younger man down with a single punch.

Something just comes over me. I grab the leg of the chair and pull on it as it tips backward, taking him with it. "You apologize to me right now," I demand. I push on the fork when he doesn't respond.

He gurgles, mouthing the word sorry.

Forrest picks him up by his arm, dragging him outside along with the younger man.

I set the chair upright and cover my mouth, calming my nerves. For as long as I can remember, people have always compared me to Elizabeth. Thinking I'm just like her. Well, I'm not. Elizabeth loved attention from any man and it didn't matter what she had to do to get it. It's one of the reasons why I left this place to begin with.

"Are you hurt?" Forrest asks.

I shake my head no.

"Let me look you over." He takes my wrist, pulling me to him.

"I'm fine."

He holds my arms out, turning them over. "Are you certain?"

"Yes, it's not my blood."

"Sit," he points.

"I should straighten-"

"I said have a seat. Go on now."

I walk over and sit down at his table.

He joins me after a minute, setting a glass of water in front of me.

"Thank you."

Forrest starts to clean the blood from my hands, then sets the rag on the table. "Are you sure you're alright?"

Why did he of all people care if I'm alright? I reach for the glass of water he brought me.

"I asked you a question now."

"I already told you three times, yes!"

"I ain't talkin' about what they did. In fact, you didn't even need my help."

I look away from him, staring at the glass in my hand.

"Miss Charlotte?"

"I'm not alright! Are you going to run around town and beat up everyone that treats me as if I'm Elizabeth?" I slam my water on the table. "Why don't you start with that stupid brother of yours?" I snap. The chair echoes through the station as it slides across the wood when I stand up. I get my purse off the bar and hurry out. He can fire me if he wants, from the looks of tonight, I can take care of myself.

* * *

I was wrong. I'm waken up abruptly and drug from my bed, into the kitchen. When I'm let go, I hurry over to Lorelai and pull her close to me. "Did they touch you?" I whisper in her ear.

She shakes her head no.

"We know you've been speaking with the Bondurant's. Maybe I'll go to them, ask them for money."

"I'll get your money. I just need some time."

"Time. I've given you time."

"Please, I know Ray owes you gentleman money but I'm doing the best I can with what I have."

The seven men close in on us.

I have never been so scared in my life and not to die. Dying is the easy part. It's what these men might do to my sister. I hold her tighter as she starts crying.

One of the men runs his knuckle down my arm.

I swallow hard as tears well up in my eyes. Please, Lord, don't let them hurt Lorelai.

"You makin' much money at the Bondurant place? Or they just trading you out between each other?"

"I make a few dollars a week. You can take what I have saved up. It's one hundred and three dol-"

"I asked for seven hundred!"

The men separate us.

"No, please! Please," I beg.

"Charlotte," Lorelai sobs.

I'm taken into the other room and beaten severely, though I'm lucky because they never put a finger on Lorelai. I didn't cry or scream because I wouldn't grant them that satisfaction. Truthfully, it could have been worse. They didn't hit me once in the face though I think that might have been so the Bondurant's didn't ask where I got a black eye from. I can't move when it's over and that's a dangerous thing because if they would have tried anything on my sister, I wouldn't have been able to protect her. Of course, who am I fooling? I can't protect her now.

Lorelai runs over to me, crying against my shoulder. "Are you okay?"

"Are they gone?"

She nods, sobbing harder.

"Stay with me, alright?"

She curls up close to me. "Your dress is bloody."

"It's alright, it can be washed. Are you sure they didn't touch you? Let me look you over."

"No, they didn't hurt me, I promise."

I hold her tight as she cries against me. Here I am interrogating her like Forrest did me.

"I love you, Charlotte."

"I love you, too, Lorelai. You close your eyes now and get some sleep. When you wake up, it'll just be a bad dream."

She nods her head and locks her fingers around mine.

What am I going to do?


	3. Chapter 3

I have Lorelai drop me off today. I didn't want her stranded without a car in case more men came back. Getting out of the car is exhausting and by the time I get to the porch, it's even worse.

"What're you hunched over for?" Forrest asks.

"Fell through the steps on the way here and I hurt my back. Why I had Lorelai drive me." I thought the days of making up lies about this sort of thing were over since Daddy passed. I can't tell if he believes me.

The man has one expression for everything. "Mmhm."

I look away and reach for the door handle.

"Come here."

"Do you need more coffee?"

"I said come here."

I grit my teeth to where he doesn't see and slowly make my way to him.

He stretches his arm out, giving me his cup of coffee. When I take it, he abruptly stands up and grabs my wrist.

"Let go!"

He pushes the sleeve of my sweater up. "Stairs did this?"

One of the men left a hand print bruise on my arm as he held me down when the others beat me. I jerk the cup from his hand. "Now I told you, those steps are old and I fell through them. You want to make up something other than the truth, well, that's on you."

...

Lorelai should have been here by now. I'm getting worried the more time that passes.

"I'll take you home."

"You'll do no such thing."

Forrest sinks back in his chair, looking down at his cup of coffee. "You're the most difficult woman I ever met."

"Please refrain from opening your trap on things you know nothing about."

He sticks his finger out, shaking it at me. "Now there you go, just bein' hateful and such."

I shift my torso and narrow my eyes at him. "Why do you suppose it is we don't like each other?"

"Lots of reasons I reckon though a particular instance of you threaten' my life sticks out the most. That'n you takin' my hat."

I folds my arms and laugh softly.

"Mmhm, now that is a sight to see, you without that scowl on your face."

"You know, they have a word for bitter women like me. I hear the men call me it in town sometimes, if they aren't calling me other things."

His eyes widen as he lowers his head, shaking it. "I ain't touchin' that one. No way."

"I should be going. Don't really feel like making you another cup of coffee because that one's cold."

He stands up from his chair. "Hold up now."

"You feel like fighting s'more Mr. Bondurant?" Why am I talking like him? I clear my throat.

"You ain't walkin' home by yourself. I won't allow it."

"Goodnight," I dismiss him and start down the road. I can hear one of his grunts behind me. Sometimes, it can be really maddening. Other times, like this instance, it makes me laugh to myself. Truth is, I rather enjoy our little disagreements.

Speaking of, he pulls up next to me and tells me to get in.

I let this go on for quite a ways thinking he'll turn around but he doesn't. I give in because I know there is no way I can walk four miles like this. I take the cigar from his mouth and roll down my window, tossing it out.

"What'd you go do a thing like that for?"

"I don't like the smell of it." I don't understand how he can even breathe in here.

"Add that to your list of reasons we don't see eye to eye."

"Fine by me as long as I don't have to be around it."

"See what I mean? Stubborn."

"Thank you."

"Mmhm."

I start to lose my composure to laugh at that one but a shooting pain goes up my side. I wish I had the money to see a doctor. Every time I use the restroom, I've been urinating blood. Though, these are the least of my problems. I need to come up with enough money for Mr. Mason.

He tilts his neck to the side some until it pops.

The sound breaks my concentration. "You shouldn't pop your neck like that."

"It bother you?"

"Yes."

He tilts his head to the other side until it pops.

I roll my eyes, turning to look out the window. I can see his smug reflection off the glass so I roll it back down again. I'm actually rather grateful Forrest isn't one for small talk. This way I don't feel obligated to keep him company in exchange for the ride. I wonder what goes on in that head of his though. He's a rather habitual creature, nothing wrong with that I suppose. Despite the bootlegging, I think he has good intentions. He's responsible and disciplined but I guess he has to seeing as he is like a mother to the other two. He's respected which is something I am jealous of. What I wouldn't give for one man to treat me with decency in this town. "I'll see you Tuesday, Mr. Bondurant."

"Name's Forrest."

I get out of the truck and become real serious like he is. "Does it bother you?"

He nods.

"Thank you for the ride, Mr. Bondurant." I shut the door and laugh softly. Our truck isn't here. I hope Lorelai is okay. When I get to the front door, I quickly turn around. "Oh, shoot!" I was so busy making fun of Forrest, I left my purse in his truck. The front door creeps open slightly. I let out a sigh. "Lorelai..." That girl would go off and leave her head if it wasn't attached. When I step inside, I notice immediately something isn't right. There's muddy boot prints on the floor, leading to the living room. I reach for the empty milk bottle on the table and swing it, breaking it over the man's head as he steps out from behind the door.

He curses as he falls to the ground.

I hurry to grab a knife but another man approaches me, tackling me to the floor. I cry out in pain when my hip hits the floor first. He smacks me twice across the face and I realize right quick, these men aren't Mr. Mason's. I try to break free but he's too strong and straddles me. He pulls me upward by the front of my dress, then forces me back down so I hit my head on the floor and it knocks me out.

...

"Miss Charlotte?" Forrest calls, cupping my cheek.

I blinks several times, pushing my eyebrows together. There's another man behind Forrest. "-hin." Why can't I get the words out!

"Speak up now."

"Behind..."

Forrest is struck on the back of the head with a cast iron skillet as it brings him to his hands and knees.

I kick the intruder three times in the leg, trying to slow him down.

It gives Forrest enough time to get to his feet.

I'm certain he could have taken him out on his own, but he slips on a pair of brass knuckles. I find myself relieved after both assailants are on the floor. I'm not sure if he killed them or not, nor do I ask, but they're removed from the house. I've never had someone defend me like he did, although I don't get too excited because his life was in danger, too. Why would Forrest want to help me of all people?

Forrest walks back in, looking somewhat in a daze. He catches me struggling and helps me to my feet.

"Why did you come back?"

"You left your purse in my truck."

"Thank you." I start to say something else, but he just has this weird look on his face. "Forrest?"

He blinks his heavy eyes and takes a step back, falling over on the kitchen table and crashing down through it.

...

"Forrest! Are you alright?"

He lazily opens his eyes.

I lay a cool rag on his forehead.

"Uh. Mmhm."

A quick breath escapes my nose. Yeah. He'll be just fine. I walk over and turn on the record player.

He sits up and takes the rag from his brow, surveying the room. "Can you turn that down?"

"I could, yes." I walk away from the record player and into the kitchen to get him a glass of water. We exchange the rag for the glass. "Thank you, you saved my life." I want to make sure he knows how grateful I am.

"Again," he mumbles, taking a drink from the glass.

Oh. He's keeping track?

"Where's your sister?"

"Out."

"With Jack?"

I cock my head some to the right. "What do you know? Tell me right now," I demand, snatching his glass.

"I know you will not speak to me that way."

"Don't tell me how to speak!"

"I guess you ain't gettin' your answer."

"Like I'd believe you anyways. Probably trying to get a rise out of me-"

The door opens up as Jack laughs.

"Be quiet, you'll wake up.. Charlotte." Lorelai swallows hard, looking at me owl eyed.

"In your room. Now," I growl.

"Goodnight, Jack," Lorelai smiles, then hurries in her room.

"Uh, I'll be outside," Jack's voice squeaks.

I'm so annoyed that just Forrest making his way to our door has me in a fit.

"I don't pretend to know much 'bout love, but I think you're outnumbered on this'n. More you try'n keep them apart-"

I slam the door in his smug face. Ugh, the nerve! I can hear his snicker over the door, and it isn't the only thing.

"You're not goin' to yell at me are you?" Jack says.

"I ain't your daddy."

"You ain't mad?"

"Heck no. I think it's funny watchin' Charlotte get upset over you two."

I knew it!

"I wanna marry Lorelai, Forrest."

What?! I almost open the door back up, but stop before I turn the knob.

"Look, Jack, you have a good time with her but that'll be all now, you hear? That's the only thing Slaughter girls are good for."

I release the knob and cover my open mouth.

"Don't talk about Lorelai like that!"

"You ain't marryin' her."

"I thought you ain't my daddy?"

"I ain't your daddy but you're a Bondurant and no brother of mine is gonna marry a Slaughter. I told you, they ain't nothin' more than prostitutes. You understand me?"

His words make my knees weak. Tears well up in my eyes. There isn't a day that goes by that I'm not called a floozy, and I try not to let it bother me. Yet I find myself sobbing over his comment. I'm angry that I even care what a Bondurant would think of us, yet, I'm crying because one said it.

* * *

"In all my years, I've never seen a scowl like the one on your face. I believe you could blow up the gas station at any minute."

"You know why I'm here on my day off," I snap at Forrest.

"I don't suppose it's outta the kindness of your heart?"

"Where is she?" I demand.

"Maybe if you kept better tabs on her you'd know," he grins, sipping his coffee.

I shove Forrest out of the way and stomp inside. "Lorelai, you come out here right this instant!"

"Get out," Howard snaps.

"Where's my sister!"

He comes full force at me. I thought for sure he was going to hit me.

Howard grabs me by the arm and I'm yanked against him.

I let out a painful yelp, holding my arm. He's dislocated it.

"That's enough, Howard," Forrest demands, grabbing him by his throat.

He instantly lets go of me.

Forrest shoves him back, then pulls him from the station.

I watch out the window, nervous as to where this is heading.

"I don't care how much you hate her, you ever put your hands on that woman again, you'll answer to me. Now you're drunk. Go for a walk and sober up, then you'll apologize."

"I ain't apologizin' for shit," Howard yells, stumbling down the road.

I move away from the door and have a seat at the table. Don't you dare cry.

"I never thought anythin' like this'd happen."

"It's not that big of a deal."

"It is a big deal. No brother of mine is going to put his hands on a woman. I won't have that."

"You think Daddy never raised his hand to me? I'll live."

"Let me look at it."

Tears fall down my cheeks when he touches my bicep. I'm so angry to show a moment of weakness in front of this man. I am not a victim. Never was with Daddy, and I'm sure not starting now.

"How many times Ray put his hands to you?"

"Only when he drank."

"I never saw Ray sober."

"Well, Mr. Bondurant, there's your answer."

"I'm sorry."

I look away from him, disregarding the apology.

"I need to set your shoulder if that'd be okay."

"I will do it." I've had enough practice.

"Please, let me."

I sink my teeth into my bottom lip as my eyes well up again.

"Okay?"

"Alright." It's always instant relief, it's just getting to that point. I let out a deep breath and cradle my arm. I wanted to leave and not deal with this, but Forrest is like this giant blockade when I stand up.

His eyes direct me back down to my seat.

This is just embarrassing now.

When Forrest comes back, he's holding some ice in a small satchel.

I take it from him, keeping my head down. Why won't he go away? Doesn't he have his books to tend to? I press the ice to my shoulder. "Thank you."

Forrest goes behind the bar and clanks some dishes around.

...

Boots step in front of me that aren't his.

My eyes jolt upward.

Howard removes his hat, as it hangs loosely on his fingers. He's distraught, it showing all over his face.

I don't blame Howard at all. This is my fault. I continuously asked for this by getting in his face.

"I am sorry I put my hands on you, Charlotte."

"You don't have to apologize. It's my fault, and you weren't trying to hurt me."

"It, it just happened so fast, I-"

"Howard, stop. It's okay."

"Let me drive you home."

"Howard, go on now. Leave her alone," Forrest interrupts. "Come get you some of this chili."

"I ain't hungry," he replies, leaving the station.

Forrest sets a bowl down in front of me.

I'm not hungry either, but I don't want to be rude.

Instead of sitting with me, he has a seat at the bar.

My eyes water from how spicy the chili is, although it's damn good. "What's in this?"

"Family secret."

"Who am I going to tell? Lorelai never cooked a day in her life." I sigh when I don't get a response. I find it frustrating that he'll just goes silent in the middle of a conversation.

* * *

There's a knock on the door. Oh, he's not the Bondurant I'm expecting.

"Uh," Forrest stammers, rubbing the back of his neck, "you alright?"

I hear Lorelai's door open and put my index finger to my lips to hush him so he doesn't worry her.

"Who's at the door?" Lorelai asks. Her eyes light up. "Hi, Forrest!"

He tips his hat. "You look pretty tonight, Miss Lorelai."

I'll admit. His compliment made me a bit jealous. Elizabeth always got the men's attention, and now it seems the same with Lorelai. Maybe it's these boots?

"Thanks," she blushes, "Jack's takin' me to a picture."

His eyes move up to me. "You allow this?"

"It was Charlotte's idea. I'm gonna get my shoes," Lorelai speaks for me, hurrying off.

"Figured you were here to chaperone the date."

Jack walks up on the porch, removing his hat.

Forrest gives him a look once over. "I knew nothin' of the sorts." He agrees to let Jack use the truck so they don't have to walk.

"Bye, Charlotte," Lorelai giggles.

I wave at her and watch the truck leave. "Well, you came all the way out here, let me at least make you some coffee before I take you home."

"Mmhm."

"I'd tell you to have a seat at the kitchen table, but you broke it."

"Uh.."

"You remember the living room," I point. I shake my head back and forth when he starts feeling in his pocket for a cigar.

"Mmhm," he grumbles, putting it back, "you know, I think you don't mind my smokin' one bit."

"Is that so?"

"I think you just like bossin' me around."

"That's your decision, wouldn't you say?"

His face becomes blank. "Mmhm..." he mumbles displeased. "Uh.. ..Mh"

"What was that?"

"Nothin'."

"You mumble a lot."

"And you flap your jaw too much! Coffee's cold. Make it again."

I rip it from his hands. There's still condensation around the rim when I pour it out. "There was nothing wrong with that last cup."

"I know," he takes it from me and leans back, "I just thought I'd see who's bossin' who."

I move my eyes skyward.

"Have a seat now, let me take a look at that shoulder. I reckon it's sore."

"I'm fine."

"I learned a few things in my life and no woman sayin' she's fine is ever the God's honest truth. Sit down, let me look at you and I won't tell you again."

I agree thinking it's going to be quick, like he'll rotate my arm or something.

"Turn your back towards me."

What good does that do?

Forrest starts towards the top of my dress and goes to unbutton it.

I freeze, and it only becomes even more awkward as he slips the fabric over my shoulder. My lip trembles as I look over my shoulder at him.

"I ain't gonna force you into nothin'."

"Showing a lot of flesh makes me nervous."

His eyes quickly move to mine. "I apologize, Miss Charlotte." He pulls my sleeve over my shoulder and buttons up my dress.

Something comes over me. I don't know why I feel the need to explain myself to Forrest Bondurant of all people. "I'm not like Elizabeth," I murmur, "never have been."

He clears his throat. "I.. I didn't mean that."

"Not now, but you thought it. I heard what you said on the porch. Telling Jack to have his fun."

"Uh.."

"You think you're the first person to have said it?" I get a bitter scowl on my face. "Why the Slaughter girls, they'll show you a good time." My expression softens. "That's what they say about us. I can't go anywhere in this town without getting a look for something I never even did. I saved myself for marriage only to find out, nobody wants to marry me." I tear up and look away from him.

"I might be guilty of thinkin' you're like Elizabeth, but I didn't come here with any intention other than making sure you was alright after what happened last night."

I wipe my tears and look back over my shoulder at him. "Really?"

He nods. "I'm truly sorry if I made you feel that way. It was wrong of me to call you names. Especially, when I see it ain't nothin' but a lie."

"I'm sorry I threatened your life."

"I appreciate that."

"No, I mean it. I blamed you boys for destroying my life but this is on Ray, not you. He chose the drink over us and I guess I've been too stubborn to see it. Truth is, I just wanted a place for my anger." I sweep my tears away.

He takes it upon himself to reach into his pocket and dry the rest of my face with his handkerchief.

I find myself in a position I've never been in before. Flushed cheeks, sweaty hands, tingling skin. I just want to be alone for a bit. "Did you eat supper? I can make a pot of beans."

"Beans are fine, thank you."

No, thank you, you stubborn bastard.

...

"I think it's working now." He's spent the last hour after supper taking apart the record player and putting it back together. Forrest presses the needle to the record and it starts up.

"Thank you so much, I can't afford another one."

"We'll call it even for you fixin' supper."

It sure isn't anything in comparison to his chili, but he's happy. My eyes well up uncontrollably. I find myself happy for the first time since I've been back. Happy because of him. I move my arms around him. "Thank you," I cry. I know he's awkward to return the embrace, but he does. I've never felt safe in my home before and I find it strange it comes from a man known by others from his ferocity. I tuck myself away against his cardigan. The faint smoky smell that lingers in the fibers are overpowered by the scent of fabric that has just been washed. The thought of him hunched over a washboard with a cigar between his lips brings a smile to mine.

Forrest touches his hand to my lower back.

I tilt my head up to find him staring at me.

He tucks some hair behind my ear, then grazes my cheek with his thumb. "A Bondurant and a Slaughter," he murmurs.

"There's no stopping Lorelai I've realized."

Forrest gives me an unrelenting stare as his callous thumb goes back for a second pass over my now reddening skin.

Is.. Is he talking about us? My nervous fingers knot the back of his cardigan.

The door swings open, startling the both of us as we repel from each other.

"You fixed the record player," Lorelai beams.

"Come now, we best be gettin' on," Forrest tells Jack.

Right now? But I thought-

"Night, Miss Lorelai," Jack smiles.

"Goodnight," she giggles, going to her room.

I don't want things to end like this. I open the door back up.

"What's eatin' you?" Jack asks.

Forrest points to the truck dismissing him. He lights his cigar, turning to face me.

"That's all you have to say?" I don't even get a mumble. Just some stoic stare. "What was that about? In there."

"I apologize for the way I behaved."

He- He's apologizing?

"It will never happen again."

I can't say anything back because I'm focusing too hard on keeping my tears from falling. Forrest turns his back just in time as they roll down my cheeks. Charlotte, you stupid girl.


	4. Chapter 4

Howard says more to me than Forrest does all day. In fact, Forrest doesn't even grant me a mumble. I don't understand. Was that some kind of test? Maybe he thinks I am just like Elizabeth since I was so quick to jump in his arms.

"I got you somethin'."

My eyes shift up at Howard.

In his outward hand he holds a Marion Harris record.

I know he's feeling guilty about my shoulder, but I didn't expect this. "Howard, I can't take that."

"Well sure you can." He grabs my hand, placing the record in it.

"I don't know what to say."

"Usually thank you."

"Of course, it's just… no one's ever given me anything before." I bring the record closer. "Thank you, Howard," I smile.

Forrest scrapes his chair across the floor, and slams his office door once he goes inside.

"Pay him no mind. He's been in one hell of a mood since last night."

"Yeah, sure," I murmur.

...

"What's eatin' you?"

I sniff up my nose, looking confused at Howard. "Oh, the onion," I laugh, wiping my tears away with the back of my hand.

"Here, let me."

"Really?"

"They don't bother me." He's right, his eyes don't even well up.

"What's your secret?"

"In 1919 I was on an army troop ship. We was makin' our way to England. Influenza spread across that ship like a wild fire. I, uh," he starts to laugh as if at that exact moment he realizes how silly it was, "I slept on the high stacks of onion crates, you know away from it all."

"Well, as long as it worked, right?"

"Oh, no, I got sick just the same as the others," he chuckles.

"So you stank, and got sick."

"It was nothin' compared to the men that was dyin' in their own filth." Recalling the memory seems to upset him, though who wouldn't be? "I never told anyone that."

I don't really know what to say at his honesty. I deflect it because it's all I know. "Surprised you eat onions now after that."

"Not much turns my stomach." He lightly presses his fingers to the back of my shoulder. "Except for maybe one thing."

I remove his hand from me. "Now, Howard, stop. I told you, it was an accident."

"But I-"

"Might have to pull another six shooter on you again if you keep making me seem weak."

He starts to laugh.

"Go on now," I shoo him.

"Alright, alright."

"Thank you for your help," I smile.

* * *

As I'm sweeping the floor, I notice there are blood spots on it. I drag the broom across it and it smears against the floor. Fresh blood. My eyes follow a trail of it that leads to the bathroom. The door knob is bloody, as well as half a hand print on the molding of the doorway. I press my fingers to the knob, slowly pushing it open.

Howard is at the sink, his clothes dripping red.

"H- Howard," I gasp before gagging at the smell.

"What?"

"Are you alright? Look at you!"

His eyes shuffle before he lets out a breathed laugh. "Not my blood."

"Oh." A quick breath escapes me.

"You are gettin' soft on me."

"No, I just. Well, you should see yourself. You look like a damn lunatic! Whose blood is that?"

"Belonged to one of our cows. Gave birth to a six legged calf. What do you reckon, good omen or a bad one?"

"I don't know.."

"Guess it don't matter. I'll bring it inside in a minute."

"Are we going to… serve that to the customers?"

"'Course. What the hell else do you think we gonna do with it?"

I reach for a rag and help him clean up. A lot of this blood looks a few days old.

"I can teach you some time. Teach a Slaughter how to slaughter."

I hear the screen door open. "If you'll leave your clothes on the sink, I'll wash them for you." I bump into Forrest on the way out of the bathroom.

He's displeased, nostrils flaring.

For a moment I think I'm going to get to hear his voice for the first time in days.

He just sneers at me and points at the customers who have walked in the station.

...

"Good night," I tell Forrest.

He's as stoic as ever, staring blankly down the road. One hand hangs loosely in the pocket of his cardigan. The other doesn't accompany his usual mug of coffee, and he didn't drink a single one I brought him today. Or the other days.

"Alright then," I murmur, stepping off the porch. It's the longest four miles home of my life. When I pull up to our driveway, I stay rooted to the seat. I guess part of me wants to go back and talk to him, while the other part tries to convince myself otherwise. He'd talk to me if he wanted to.

* * *

"Excuse me, I can't find the cake flour."

"Sold out," the clerk says.

"Well, alright, thank you for your-"

The store manager takes a grip on my buggy. "We can't help you here."

I rip my purse from it. "Perhaps you could have told me that before I wasted my time collecting these other things."

"To avoid wasting your time don't ever come back in this store again," he threatens.

"Two Slaughter's down, two to go," the clerk laughs.

He isn't the only one to have a real good laugh.

My body stiffens from the bold remark. With a vicious yank, I get a can from the soup display and bash him over the head with it. After two blows to the head, I drop the bloody can at my feet, starting to shake. I hurry from the store, to my truck. My hands are stained red. I wipe his blood down the front of my dress. Oh, gosh, what have I done?

...

I try and wash some of the blood out of my dress, but it's only seeping further into the fibers. "Dammit!" I crouch down behind the bar at Blackwater Station and start to cry.

"Charlotte," Howard calls.

Shoot! I thought I was alone. I know I was alone! Where did he come from? I fan my face, taking a deep breath before I rise up.

"What's wrong?"

"I just miss Ray is all."

His eyes narrow to slits.

I heave a heavy sigh, rubbing the back of my neck.

"Might of believed you if you said Elizabeth. Walk around here, let me take a look at you."

Suppose he's not leaving until I tell him, and truthfully, I'm all out of lies.

"Soup can, huh?" he smirks.

"Twice, in the head. I don't regret it."

"Well, he fuckin' deserved it."

My eyes flood. "I don't regret it, Howard," I whimper.

He tries to give me a hug, but I move away from him.

"I'm sorry, thank you though."

"What's goin' on in here?" Forrest asks.

It's not how I wanted to hear his voice again. I look up at Howard and mouth the word please at him. I'm embarrassed by this, and don't want Forrest to know.

"I, uh, just got to her is all."

I give him a weak smile before turning around.

"Mmhm."

I'm not that good at distinguishing his grunts yet, but I know Forrest doesn't believe him.

"Make me a list, I'm gonna run into town. I'll pick up the things we need for the store," Howard says, before going out the front door.

"What?" I snap at Forrest, before going behind the counter.

He snatches my wrist before I make it. "Did he put his hands on you?"

"No." I try and rip my hand from his clutches, but he's not letting go.

"I asked you a question-"

"I gave you an answer."

Forrest presses his fingers to the blood on my dress. "That's what I thought."

"No, Forrest, wait," I plea, running after him. "It isn't Howard's fault! Forrest! It's the clerk's blood from the general store. I hit him in the head after a comment he made." I'm angry with him that he forced me to tell him, though a lot of it is pride. I hate seeming weak, yet it's happening more times than I'd like to admit.

It isn't enough for Forrest. He wants to know every detail.

Damn you.

He brings his hand up to my cheek.

I thought he hated me? Hated me because of this exact thing.

"Are you alright?"

I shake my head side to side, fighting more tears. I'm not really sure what kind of tears they are. Happy? Relief? Humiliation? Maybe a bit of all three? I curl my fingers around his arm and step closer to him.

He brushes my cheek as his eyebrows knit in a frown.

I wait patiently for him to say the words he's trying so desperately to keep to himself.

Howard's boots scuff on the floor of the station as he chews on the inside of his lip. The door is almost ripped from its rusty hinges when he quickly hurries from the station.

Forrest takes his hand from me and goes after Howard.

The two of them bicker back and forth before Forrest gets in the truck and Howard climbs into the back of it.

It angers me that I'm left alone because both of them seemed so concerned. Guess I'll do what I'm good at. Putting on a smile for others. "Have a seat wherever you like," I tell the folks that just walked in.

* * *

I don't know what I did, but I've somehow managed to upset Howard. It seems like as soon as Forrest and I start speaking again, Howard and I stop. Though, Jack is always friendly, even though I've tried so many times to keep him and Lorelai apart.

"You think this looks alright?" Jack takes a step back and holds out his arms.

"There's a hole on the side here," I say, tugging at the armpit of his shirt.

"What if I just keep my arms down?"

"Go change and I'll sew it up for you," I laugh.

"Who you tryin' to impress," Howard simpers with a mouth full.

"I'm going to propose to Lorelai," Jack smiles proudly.

Howard's face goes blank.

Jack shows him the ring he picked out.

"You'd be my sister?" Howard asks me.

"In law, but, yes."

Howard pushes himself away from the bar and goes over to where Forrest is sitting, slamming his hand on the table. "How the fuck could you let somethin' like this happen?"

Forrest clears his throat, going back to his books.

Howard shoves it from the table. "I'm talkin' to you! You gonna act like this ain't eatin' you, too?"

Forrest mumbles something at Howard, however they're actual words this time. They're just too low to hear.

"I'm not in the mind for this horseshit," Howard yells, slamming the door behind him.

That thing is hanging onto its rusty hinges for dear life.

I give Jack a smile and offer again to fix his shirt for him.

"Thanks, Charlotte."

I don't understand why Howard's mad. I thought we were actually on speaking terms.

Forrest's cup sliding across the table pulls me from my thoughts.

The man knows just how to get under my skin, and I let him. "Here." I set it back down beside his books.

"Get you somethin' to eat before you leave. You ain't had nothin' all day."

"How do you know that?"

"Uh.." He seems slightly embarrassed.

I can't play these games with him. I have my sister to worry about. It's the first night I don't tell him goodnight when I leave.

* * *

"Lorelai, come on!" I'm already a few hours late. I ended up sleeping in. Guess the stress is starting to take a toll on me. "Lorelai?" Where is that girl? "Lor-"

Lorelai looks at me with owl eyes, tears falling down from them.

"No," I panic, but Mr. Mason's men keep me from getting to her.

"Where's my money?"

"I'm still working on it!"

"Maybe this will give you the proper motivation." He cocks his gun, pointing it at Lorelai's head.

"No, please," I beg.

"Let go of her," Forrest demands, stepping in the house.

"You paying for her father's debt?"

I'm mortified.

Forrest's eyes shift over to me.

I can't bear to look at him and drop my head.

"Your debt's with Ray, not me'n not these here girls."

"Ray owes me seven hundred dollars."

"Your problem'n your fault for a poor decision to trust him with your money."

"Sir," one of Mason's men whispers. "That's Forrest Bondurant."

I'm released as I hurry over to Lorelai.

"Go on now, get out of here."

None of Mr. Mason's men dare utter a word, and leave quietly.

The pull Forrest has is incredible.

"Go wash up, okay?" I tell her. "Thank you for stepping in, Forrest. I-"

"Three times now."

"I don't know what to say."

"I asked you if Ray was in trouble'n you said no."

"It was none of your business."

"Well, guess what? My business now'n you're two hours late."

I'm so ashamed right now.

* * *

"Where did you get all this food?" I ask Lorelai.

"Just thought I'd pull my weight is all and go shopping while you was at work."

"You went to the general store in town?"

"Uh huh." She breaks off a piece of her chocolate bar, stuffing it in her mouth. "They even pushed the cart around for me. I just pointed at stuff. The manager told me he's going to special order the cake flour for you. Should be two weeks."

I pull in a lung full of air. Forrest. He must have went back that day I was upset and had a word with him. I shudder to think what a word even means.

"Are you upset? Did I not get the right things?"

I give her a warm smile. "Let's cook everything you bought!"

"Okay," she giggles.

...

"Try this biscuit with honey on it!"

"This is better than the gravy!"

I've never been so gluttonous in my life.

"Fry the pork chops next!"

We're running out of counter top space to put the food. 2 lbs of bacon, fried chicken, 12 stacks of pancakes with syrup, tapioca, and cream of wheat are just some of the things. We were just cooking to cook!

"Carry me to my bed, Charlotte," she groans.

I'm stooped over against the cabinets. "Me first," I laugh.

"This was a terrible idea."

This is exactly what we needed, and if it means dealing with a stomach ache, that's fine. Something to distract ourselves from everything. With Mr. Mason out of the picture, and me working full time, we can finally save up the money we need to go back to New York. 1930 is going to be a good year for us. I know it!

* * *

I wake up gasping for a breath on the kitchen floor.

Lorelai was right, we ate way too much.

What's that smell? I flutter open my eyes, but the room is dark. "Lor-" I start having a coughing fit, unable to catch my breath. It's so hot in here. It's never this warm in- The house is on fire! "Lorelai," I scream, crawling across the kitchen. "Lorelai," I cough. Even though I've lived here most of my life, I can't find my way around with this thick smoke. I feel her hand wrap around mine.

"Charlotte," she cries.

"Hold your breath, I'm going to get us out of here!" I feel for furniture as a guide to try and find my way out of the house. The roof is already starting to collapse. "It's okay," I tell her. "There's the door!"

"Lorelai," Jack screams, running across the driveway.

I set her down on the grass by the steps.

"Is, is she alive?" Jack panics.

I start to cough, nodding my head.

Forrest grabs Jack by his arm and pulls him back. "Give 'em some room."

"Jack," Lorelai cries.

"Jack, stay with her."

"Wait a minute now," Forrest demands, "you ain't goin' back in that house."

I ignore him, starting up the steps.

Forrest snatches my wrist. "Whatever's in there ain't worth your life."

"Why do you care?" I pull my wrist from his grip.

"You gotta sister that does. What were you goin' back for?"

"A metal box under my bed."

He takes off his hat and hands it to me.

"No!"

"Where is it?"

"It's the first bedroom on the right."

Forrest opens the screen door, going inside of my house.

The heat from the fire is unbearable, and the smoke is darkening the sky. Everything I've worked for over the past few months is gone. The left side of the house starts to cave in. "Forrest," I call, wringing his hat in my hands. What's taking so long?! Oh, gosh, what have I done? I sent him back inside for a stupid box! I'm going after him.

The side window breaks, as smoke rolls out of it. Forrest sets his foot on the ledge and jumps out of the window.

I exhale a relieved breath. "Thank you, Forrest." We trade the box and the hat.

He wipes the soot from his nose, then turns to throw up.

I try to rub his back but he moves me away.

"Charlotte," Lorelai calls.

"Let me look at you," I tell her.

"Our house," she cries. "What are we going to do?"

"Don't worry about that, we're alive."

"What happened?" Lorelai asks.

"I must have left the stove on."

"It was Mason's men," Forrest says. "Saw them come from this direction. We expected worse than a fire."

It's pretty bad if you ask me, but I know he's meaning that he thought we'd both be dead. Luckily most of the money I've saved is in this box that Forrest got, but it's not enough for us to head back to New York. That means we'll have to rent something in town and it's going to take us twice as long to get back. I suppose one good thing did come out of that day.

Jack proposes to Lorelai right there in the grass, fire and all.

I'm happy for her, and Jack really does love her. Though it does make me question if maybe our trip to New York will ever happen. I know she wanted Jack to come with us, but the truth is, with them getting married, I'm going to have to let my sister go. I don't think I really know how to live without taking care of her, but I guess that's Jack's job now. I'm getting ahead of myself, and this isn't about me. I give Lorelai a smile and pull her close. "Congratulations."

"We best be getting back now," Forrest says, slipping on his hat. He isn't just talking about Jack. "You two can share one of the bedrooms upstairs."

"What about Howard?" He's not going to be happy about the new living arrangement if he can't even stand the thought of us in the same room.

"Oh, I reckon Howard ain't going to be too happy 'bout this but he'll live."

"Thank you, Forrest."

"Mmhm."

I look back at a house of nothing but terrible memories as it quickly deteriorates.

"Come on, let's go home," Lorelai says, taking my hand.

Yeah, home. For however long this one lasts..

* * *

**A/N The little excerpt about Howard and the onions is actually taken from Matt Bondurant's book, 'The Wettest County in the World.' Six legged calf is a dvd deleted scene.**


	5. Chapter 5

 

 

 

"This is... cozy," Lorelai sighs, setting her bag down on the bed.

"We'll be safe, and we're lucky that Forrest let us stay here." I rub my fingers across my brow. "Please don't cry."

"All of our things are gone!"

"It is what it is."

"Yeah, that's your stupid answer for everythin' because you don't feel anythin'. You didn't even cry when Daddy died!"

"You're just upset, and you're taking it out on me."

"You are my problem," she yells, slamming the door behind her.

I roll my eyes skyward. Ridiculous. When the door opens, I figure it's for round two.

"Here." Forrest sets down some money on the bed.

"No. You've done enough."

"You'll work it off. Go into town'n get you some things."

I'm embarrassed that Forrest was more than likely a witness to my argument with Lorelai. I don't want to cause any trouble, especially since he's being so generous. "I'm sorry about the argument. I hope we didn't disturb you."

Forrest's eyes wander to the side before he looks back at me. "Why'd she think you'd be sad over Ray?"

I fold my arms across my chest, running my hand over my bicep. "Lorelai doesn't know about the abuse."

"Ray don't deserve her mercy. She should know."

"He was everything to her, and I won't do anything to ruin that." His grunt concerns me like he's going to say something to her. "Forrest, please, this isn't your place to get involved in."

"Let me take you into town then."

"No. It's alright, I'd like to get some rest." I don't want him to see the way the people treat me in town, and he can't go around threatening everyone. Little did I know, that would be the last time Forrest and I spoke for over two months. Things only got worse from there. As the wedding neared, he tried more and more to keep himself away from me. Even if I talked to Forrest about the store his response was some type of grunt, or he's back to pointing at things. With Howard still angry, and Jack spending his time with Lorelai, things got quite lonely at Blackwater Station.

* * *

July 1930

* * *

"Hi, Selma," I smile.

Selma's one of the oldest residents in Franklin County, along with her husband who tends one of the stills here. She's as kind as they come though her mouth is a little bit on the burly side and it tends to give people the wrong impression. Today she's griping about the general store not carrying her favorite soap. Though I guess when you're set in your ways for years that's a pretty big deal. "Heard your sister was gettin' married to one of them Bondurant's."

Wow, even this far out gossip still travels. "Yes, to Jack."

"How'd he ever manage that? That boy never says a damn word."

I try not to laugh.

She's thinking of Forrest. "Here you go, baby." Selma sets some fabric on the table. "Oh, and take these. You can wear 'em to the weddin'." She hands over a pair of t-bar heels.

Oh, no. Heels. Even at two inches I'm intimidated. "Thank you, Selma. This is very kind of you."

"Well, you girls ain't seen much kindness."

Normally, I'd agree with her, but lately it seems that's all anyone's been to us.

* * *

"Hold still." Fitting Lorelai for her wedding dress is exhausting. I pull another pin from my mouth and slip it in the side.

"Ow!"

"That didn't even graze you."

"Well... it could have."

"Hold. Still."

Lorelai stamps her foot. "I want long sleeves!"

"You won't want long sleeves come August."

"This is my dress!"

"Alright! I'll add sleeves, but if you don't hold still you're not getting anything!" I know giving into her temper isn't the right thing to do, but I just can't deal with the tantrums.

* * *

It's taken me a month, but I've finally finished her dress.

Lorelai looks herself over in the mirror, then starts to cry.

Oh, great. She hates her dress! I don't have any more fabric, and the wedding is just two weeks away!

"Thank you so much, Charlotte."

"You.. you like it?"

"Yeah! It's beautiful!"

Well... that's a relief.

"I wish Daddy was here to walk me down the aisle." She tries to spin but trips on the train of the dress.

All I can think about is her ripping the dress being as clumsy as she is. "Here, let me help you out of it."

"Don't wait up tonight. Jack is taking me to see a show."

"How much money do you need?"

"That's not how it works. The guy pays for everythin'."

Well, I wouldn't know.

"Thanks again for makin' the dress."

"You're welcome," I smile, feeling accomplished as I watch her skip from the room. As I start to put her dress on the bed, I press it to me, looking myself over in the mirror. My eyes shift in the mirror when I see Forrest. "Oh, um," I redden.

"Uh, the door. It was open." He flushes, too.

Even though it's a stammer, it's a relief to hear his voice. "I was just folding it." Why lie? We both caught it.

Forrest clears his throat. "I know it's your day off, but I was hopin' you could, I uh, need to go into town. Get some things for the store."

I owe Forrest whatever he requests for the kindness he's shown us, and agree. Luckily, it will just be a trip into the general store, which he's already made it clear to them how I'm to be treated. "Yes, I'll be down in just a second." I watch him rush from the room, then bury my face in the palm of my hand. How embarrassing.

...

I thought we'd be grocery shopping, but Forrest parks around the back of the store and meets the store manager. They talk for a few seconds before the manager and the man I hit with the soup can start loading up bulk items in the back of Forrest's truck.

"Come on now," Forrest says, opening my door. "We'll take care of other business while these gentleman do this."

Wh- what other business? I don't want to go to another store! And I'm a damn mess. I quickly tie my boot, then brush the access thread strings from my dress.

"What're you fidgetin' for?"

"S- sorry." I look so unappealing! These stupid boots squeak with every stride and when I step inside the store, I almost trip from the sole catching on the small step. Way to go, Charlotte! One of the ladies gives me a nasty look, before turning her back to me. I confine myself to the corner of the shop, taking interest in one of the record players. It makes me miss ours.

"I thought I made myself clear the first time." The shop owner slams the lid shut on the record player. "Slaughter girls aren't- Forrest," she stammers.

"Miss Slaughter here needs a sewing machine."

"Oh, yes, come right this way, Miss… Slaughter."

I'm so angry with this woman, I'm not even listening to her choke on her own words. This was the first place I tried to get a job, and she had nothing but nasty names for my sister and me. Telling me I wasn't welcome.

"...but this is our top of the line...."

Ugh, I wish I had another can of soup!

Forrest turns to me. "Pick one."

The manager is speechless.

I'm speechless.

Since when is Forrest the only one with something to say?

I'm in disbelief he's willing to pay seventy eight dollars so this woman can eat her words. "I've finished sewing the wedding dress," I inform him.

"Just the usual then'n we're in a hurry," Forrest tells her.

"Right away, I'll see to it personally."

My satisfaction continues as I watch this woman frantically order her staff around, even helping them load the truck.

Forrest doesn't acknowledge her goodbye, but instead opens my door for me. He didn't need me to come with him.

I served no purpose, other than company. It's as if he reads my thoughts.

"I didn't tell you to pick a machine to make that woman mad. I did it because I wanted you to have it."

"Forrest, it's seventy eight dollars!"

"When're you gonna see I don't give a damn 'bout money?"

"It wouldn't feel right."

"Mmhm."

Mmhm indeed. I keep my attention out the window as the town starts to fade away and it's just the gravel road.

Forrest pulls over and turns off the truck. He sets his arm over the back of the seat.

I can feel his eyes studying me.

"Is Elizabeth shamin' your name why you don't like goin' into town?"

I nod, whisking some hair behind my ear. "Elizabeth had good intentions, even when she was doing the prostitution. She saw what that life style afforded her, and became addicted to it. New pearls, new records. I'm selfish though, I know I am because every time I think I can forgive her for shaming our name, something like this happens and all these feelings of resentment surface. Am I wrong for being angry?"

"Maybe if you feel selfish 'bout it, but that's the thing 'bout forgiveness. It's only eatin' you. You can be angry forever if you want. 'Cept, what good is it doing you?"

"Yeah. I suppose you're right. Guess I never thought of it like that."

"You did a good thing when your mama died takin' care of Lorelai. I noticed you in town sometimes with her. Would see the way the other men looked at you, but you'd pay them no mind. As long as that girl was taken care of. If she pointed at somethin', you'd dig into your purse'n try to scrounge up what you could."

It's not that I wasn't listening to him before, but he has my full attention now. "I didn't know that you... noticed."

"Well, not everyone was interested in Elizabeth." He tries to start the truck back up, but something is wrong. "Wait here."

I watch him get out and become angry. No, you wait a minute! Come back here! What does he mean not everyone is interested in Elizabeth? I thought he was trying to create distance between us because he didn't like me, but what if it's really because he knows that Jack and Lorelai are getting married?

"Get back in the truck, it's rainin'."

"You haven't talked to me in months and that's what you choose to tell me? You have the worst timing."

"It never was our time. The first time I saw you, you were 16. I was 21. Didn't feel right. Then two years later you up'n leave. Now here you are, all grown up, only.." He slips his damp cardigan off, draping it over me. "It doesn't matter."

I grab his bicep. "We never finished our dance."

"Is that what it was? I recall somethin' a little different."

I know I'm only hurting myself, but as long as he doesn't push me away, I can handle this. A fragile innocence. It has to be. I turn my attention to the engine. "Let me help you."

"No."

"Alright." As I wait for him in the truck, my chest becomes tighter. Of all the people that used to stare at us in town, who would have thought Forrest Bondurant would have been one of them? The uneven weight to his cardigan caught my attention outside, so while he fools with the truck, I reach into the right pocket. There's a pair of brass knuckles, along with an old pocket watch. I tap the face on the pocket watch, but the hands have stopped moving. The hood slams down, so I stuff the things back in the cardigan. "Is everything okay?" My question is answered once the truck starts up. I kind of wish it didn't and we could be stranded here for a bit. With every turn, I become a little more disappointed knowing Blackwater Station is just a few minutes away. I boldly reach over and curl my fingers around his.

His fingers tighten around mine and he takes a wrong turn.

Whether it's intentional or accidental, I don't say anything. Just having some kind of effect on Forrest makes me feel empowered.

He pulls off on the side of the road.

I don't really know where we're at, but the train tracks aren't too far ahead.

"The train passes in a few minutes."

"You thinking about us hitching a ride out of here?"

"Maybe."

"No, you're not." I'm terrified that he's serious. Terrified that he's not. He's not one to make irrational decisions, nor am I. As a result, we end up doing the things that need to be done, instead of the things we want.

Maybe he secretly hoped the train wouldn't come like some sort of sign, because when it passes, the truck starts and he turns the car back around. He doesn't let go of my hand, and as Blackwater Station comes into view, his grip gets a little tighter.

What if I wasn't so rude that day when the three of them showed up at my house? In all the years Daddy bought from the Bondurants, they never made a personal delivery to our house. It was always up the road. What if Forrest just wanted that chance to talk, and he saw it as an opportunity to do so? I don't let go of his hand when he pulls up to the station.

Neither does he.

I truly believe if Howard hadn't come out to help unload the truck, being the stubborn people we are, Forrest and I would have sat there all night. I'm sure Howard suspected something. After all, I still had on Forrest's cardigan.

Forrest walks me to my room.

I know it's time to give it back, but I remove it as slow as possible. "Thank you."

His eyes always wander when he's trying to find the words to say, but instead of speaking, he presses his lips to my forehead.

I'm surprised by the gesture of affection that he's initiated. I want him to embrace me more than ever, but we can't allow ourselves that.

"Goodnight, Miss Charlotte."

"Goodnight, Forrest."

* * *

"This one, please." If there's one place I can count to take my money, it's the fancy shop at the end with all the high dollar jewelry.

"Ten dollars."

"Here," I smile, handing the bill over.

"Would you like it gift wrapped?"

"Please."

I'm so eager to get back to the station. I manage to sneak in undetected.

Forrest is in his office occupied.

I set the gift down in front of his door, making sure it's perfectly in place.

* * *

My eyes open to the gift bag on my dresser. "Wha-" I hurry out of bed, swiping the bag. "Forrest," I shout. His bedroom door is wide open. My anger stews most of the day because Forrest and Howard have taken the truck somewhere. It isn't until after ten and half way up the steps that I hear one of his tired grunts. I'm a little more hostile than I should be. I just don't understand! "The gift is for you."

"I appreciate it, but you need to return it."

"Is it about the money?"

"You know it's not 'bout the money."

I'm finally open to the idea of letting someone in except it's the wrong person. We're no better now than the day he stood on my porch. I whimper as tears well up.

Forrest gives me nothing in return. No grunts. Just an impassive stare.

"Dinner is in an hour, Mr. Bondurant," I dryly inform him as I ascend up the steps.

"Now you wait just a second-"

I slam my bedroom door behind me.

...

"Charlotte?" Lorelai calls.

I sweep away my tears, gathering my composure before I rise to my feet.

She rushes to my side. "Are you crying?"

"No."

She notices the pocket watch on the floor. "Who's this for?"

"It was a gift for someone."

"Forrest?"

"Why don't you start supper? Just like I showed you."

"No, talk to me!"

"Lorelai, I asked you to do someth-"

"You like him, don't you?"

"It was a simple thank you gift. There wasn't any hidden meaning behind it."

"Charlotte, I don't want to marry Jack if you have feelin's for Forrest. I wouldn't feel right."

I put the watch in her hand. "You take this and see if they'll give you a few dollars for it, then buy yourself something nice, you hear? Now in the meantime, go start supper, and I won't tell you again."

"Alright," she murmurs.

I love Lorelai more than anything, and I want her to be happy. Jack will take care of her. It's time I started living my life, too. I take all my money and lay it out on the bed, then make three piles. I leave Lorelai quite a bit, then Forrest the other half. What I have left over will buy me my ticket back to New York. I just wish I was as anxious to leave Franklin County now as I was the first time.

* * *

"I'm so nervous," Lorelai trembles as I button the back of her dress.

"I don't know why you're nervous. At least you can walk in your heels," I smirk.

"I'm serious!"

"Of course you're nervous, but it's alright."

Her forehead wrinkles. "My name's gonna be Lorelai Bondurant."

"What's wrong with that?"

She shrugs.

"Do you want me to start singing?"

"No!"

"Once I lived a life of a mil-"

She puts her hand over my mouth and starts to laugh. "I love you, Charlotte."

I give a muffled I love you in return, followed by a hug. "I'll see you at the altar." There's actually quite a few people here for the wedding. My smile starts to dissolve when I realize that I'm walking down the aisle with Forrest. I remind myself this is for Lorelai before I take my place beside him.

"I reckon we should be civil," he says, extending his elbow outward.

I wrap both hands around my flowers. "There's no need to touch, this is civil enough."

"Mmhm."

"Are you really wearing that hat?" I don't know if he does it to appease me, or maybe he just didn't realize he had it on, but he sets it on the side table in the hall.

"We're almost ready. Two minutes," The woman tells us.

Forrest takes a pocket watch from his vest, checking the time.

It's the watch I gave him. He.. kept it? Lorelai must have told him, gave him the watch. My eyes well up, but I'm able to keep the tears from falling. I run my hand down the front of my dress and gather my composure. "You look nice." Hell, even with the hat on he did.

His eyebrow peaks as he shifts his eyes towards me. "Are you complimentin' me?"

"Do you see anyone else?" I ease my arm around his.

He lets out a breathed laugh. "You look beautiful, Miss Charlotte. You always have."

My mouth opens slightly as I turn my head.

The church doors open as he tugs on my arm some so we can start down the aisle.

I grip his arm a little tighter. "Don't let me trip." I figured he would laugh, but he just looks somber and it grows increasingly as we make our way to the altar. I still haven't told him I'm leaving. Our walk has come to an end, much like our time together. I take my place across from him, and wait for the church doors to open again.

All eyes are on Lorelai.

Forrest's are on me.

I force a weak smile as his eyebrows knit together. I have to turn my attention away from him. In a few days, I'll be gone. You can do this. I hold Lorelai's bouquet for her and find myself drifting off into thought. Thoughts of Forrest. When the Preacher asks if anyone objects to the marriage, I have to swallow a little harder. My stomach jumps when I see Forrest staring right back at me again.

It's anything but an impassive stare.

Has he even taken his eyes off me? I watch his lips move. His attempt to object to the wedding, but it's overpowered by the shattering of glass and screams from the other people.

Forrest lunges and takes me to the ground. He's shot twice in the back protecting me from the spray of bullets. Forrest isn't the only one that's protected me.

Howard is shot in the leg as his burly frame protects what Forrest's can't.

I look around the church, taking in the damage when the dust settles. Jack has also been shot. The Preacher is dead.

"Lorelai," Jack cries.

My eyes move over to my sister on the ground.

"Lorelai," I scream.

She lies in a pool of red as it soaks the white fibers of her dress.

I scoop up Lorelai's limp body in my hands. "No," I shrill. "Lorelai, wake up!"

"Howard," Forrest yells, taking his gun from the back of his pants.

I hoist her up, pressing my cheek to hers. "Lorelai," I cry.

Howard limps towards the window, then fires his gun out it.

Forrest is shot again in the arm by return fire.

I put my ear to Lorelai's chest, but hear nothing. My eyes lock with Jack's as I shake my head side to side.

"No," he sobs against her dress. "Lorelai!"


	6. Chapter 6

I hold Jack much like I used to do Lorelai.

He hasn't stopped crying.

I can't grieve her. Not yet. I watch them lower my sister into the ground, feeling nothing but rage for the egregious act that took her from me. People give me their condolences. People I don't know. People that didn't know her.

_She was a sweet girl._

_She was too young._

_She was..._

_**Was** _ _._

I wish she was here. She'd give me the courage to be strong. She'd know what to say to make these people leave.

"Charlotte, can we go now?" Jack cries.

I shield him from the others as I guide him through the crowd to his truck.

He slips from my fingers and collapses to the earth. "It hurts!"

I engulf him in my arms again. "I know."

Jack moves away from me, slamming the passenger door as he gets in the truck.

I know he's not upset with me, it's the situation.

Howard stayed back with the truck for the funeral. One hand hangs loosely in his pocket while the other clutches a jar of white lightning, what little remains. His weary eyes slowly shift down to mine.

"You shouldn't be standing on your leg."

A quick breath escapes his nose in disgust as he chugs back another drink. Howard refused to go to the hospital. Pulled the bullet out himself with a trench knife.

Forrest wasn't that lucky. He's still in the hospital from his injuries.

Howard is an even bigger enigma than Forrest.

I chew on the inside of my lip. I just wish for once I didn't have to mentally fight with one of the older Bondurant's. That if maybe they could cut me some slack, it would be today of all days. "With everything I didn't get the chance to thank you for taking a bullet for me."

"I don't want your fuckin' gratitude, Charlotte." He chucks the Mason jar in the back of the truck.

I flinch when it shatters.

He takes his place on the bed of the truck, resting his hands on the roof. Just this deadpan expression as he faces forward ready to leave.

Jack sobs into his palms, refusing to speak, even after we return.

I don't know how to mend everyone.

* * *

Forrest wasn't out of the hospital front door before he was trying to light his cigar.

I keep my disgust to myself.

He seems surprised to see me, and puts the cigar out on one of the wooden support beams that holds up the porch roof.

"You didn't have to do that on my account."

"Why are you here?"

"To collect you."

"To collect me, huh? I was gonna walk."

"It's twenty miles."

"You bury your sister?"

"The day before last."

"I could of walked."

"Well, I'm here, so… so could you just please get in.. in the.. truck," I whimper. Dammit. I turn on the ball of my heel, facing away from him.

"Mmhm." His fingers briefly graze mine, but it's only to get the keys from me.

I thought being around Forrest would put things into perspective, but it just makes me realize how alone I truly am. He shouldn't even be driving. Like I can convince him otherwise. I slam the door a little more forceful than I should. My pride aside, I owe him my life, and thank him for protecting it.

He responds with a grunt, though it's not his typical one. He's over exerted himself, and he's holding one of his wounds.

"I'll get the doctor!"

The doctor tells Forrest it's wise that he stay, but it only aggravates him being told what to do and Forrest disregards his advice.

"I wish you'd at least let me drive."

He's rooted in that driver's seat.

I apologize for wasting the doctor's time before I get back in the truck. "There's no reason for you to be stubborn about this."

"Mmhm."

Fine. The Bondurant's are the biggest bunch of babies I've ever met! The car ride only further agitates me because Forrest isn't making any real effort to get us home, and since he can't say what he means, we just waste more time. I loathe being chauffeured around, mostly because of my controlling nature. Even the way he takes his turns irritates me.

"Somethin' you wanna say?"

"No." Even if I could, where would I start? His eyes on me in the church? His opposition towards Lorelai and Jack getting married? My feelings for him? His feelings for me? It doesn't matter.

Jack is asleep in my bed when I get back. He clutches Lorelai's pillow tight in his arms.

I quietly close the door so I don't wake him and head back down the steps. It's not like I was going to sleep anyway.

* * *

I'm going to get revenge, and I have nothing to lose in doing so. I take the money I was going to give to Lorelai and buy two guns, along with the ammunition. When I'm not tending to the station, I teach myself how to shoot. I'm going to kill William Mason, but I'm coming for his men first. It's time I settle this debt and foot the bill with blood.

* * *

Man number one. Craig. Craig is a man of strict routine. Routine works well unless someone means you harm. He sees the same movie every Thursday, as do I, until the day it's only the two of us in the theater. I ask him if the seat is occupied, and before he can reach for his gun, I put two rounds in his face. There's a conveniently placed exit that I use before the noise attracts any unwanted attention. One down, ten to go. Then onto Mason.

* * *

Man number two. Arthur. Arthur likes to frequent one of the brothels at the outskirts of town. I pay one of his regulars off and it gives me the chance to wait for him in the room behind one of the room dividers.

He gets comfortable on the bed, his hands behind his head. "I ain't got all fuckin' day, kitten."

I put the pillow against his head and press the gun to it, pulling the trigger. The window makes for an easy escape, and the girl I paid off knows enough to keep her mouth shut.

* * *

Man number three. Edward. Edward gets into the driver side of his Model T only to be shot in the back of the head. Guess he should have checked the back seat.

* * *

I'm blinded by vengeance. It makes me stupid. When I open my eyes, I'm tied to a chair in a warehouse. There's a burlap bag over my head, but I don't need to see to know those voices. It's Mason and what's left of his men.

"Take care of it?"

"Yeah, we pushed it in the lake."

Great. My car. Well, guess I really won't be needing it where I'm going.

Mason takes the burlap from me, flinging it to the side.

I'm struck in the mouth. I almost laugh because his reasoning for hitting me is due to the fact I'm not granting him some kind of pathetic response or begging for my life.

"I don't care what you do to this broad, but make her suffer. Then send her body to the Bondurant's." Mason wipes his bloody hand off on my dress.

I spit right in his face. "See you in hell." The large ring on his finger slices my cheek open when I feel the sting of his hand. What a fool. Cleaning his hand only to soil it again.

The warehouse door slams closed behind him.

I feel satisfied with myself knowing I've angered him. Then I close my eyes to prepare for my beating. I know they won't make it fast, and the pain will be excruciating, but at least I won't be long for this world. I peer one eye open after several minutes of silence.

His men seem uneasy about their task. "Well, you heard him."

"I ain't goin' first. You do it."

"Why do I gotta start?"

Seems my trip to the afterlife is going to take longer than I had anticipated. They had no problem when it came to assassinating my sister. Guess it's different when you have to look your victim in the eyes. Not that it stopped me.

"Just fuckin' do her." He raises his gun at me.

I didn't expect a mercy kill. I close my eye back again, and think of Lorelai. You're life doesn't really flash before your eyes. At least, mine doesn't. I jump startled when the gun goes off, only there's no pain. My eyes spring open to see one of Mason's men dead, the others scattering like roaches.

Forrest and Howard come in the side door, opening fire on the others.

I rock my chair back and forth until I fall on my side in an attempt to stay low from the spray of bullets.

Howard chases after one of the men who try and make a run for it, leaving Forrest to finish off the other men.

What seems manageable turns out to be anything but that, and one of the most violent things I have ever witnessed after the bullets stop.

Forrest uses the brass knuckles in his pocket to finish the last man off, but he's severely injured. His brown cardigan is stained with blood and ripped from bullet entries. It makes him sluggish with each heavy swing.

I never meant for him to get involved.

Howard unties me as I rush to Forrest's aid.

Forrest chokes on his own blood so I turn his head to the side some.

"Fuck," Howard grumbles.

"How could you leave him?" I have no right to scold Howard. "Help me!"

Howard lugs him in their truck.

I don't know what part of him to press my hand to and apply pressure. There's blood everywhere. He has absolutely no coloring.

"The fuck were you thinkin', Charlotte?" Howard swerves, almost hitting another car.

"Pay attention to the road!"

Howard presses his foot to the floor, accelerating the truck and in his drunken state I'm convinced we're not going to make it to the hospital alive, but we do. He slings Forrest on one of the hospital gurneys.

"Out," the nurses yell at us.

The commotion is incredible. People pour in and out of Forrest's room. Occasionally they'll have handfuls of rags soaked in blood. Oddly, when the rags stop coming that's when I really get concerned. The hours trickle by and it isn't until the sun rises the next morning that we get some type of acknowledgement.

"One of the bullets struck a major artery. We're doing everything we can, but he has internal bleeding we can't stop."

I wring his stupid hat between my fingers, hoping there's truth to this invincible rumor.

"I need a fuckin' drink." Howard trudges out of the hospital.

I should be used to being on my own by now.

* * *

Cricket and Jack stopped by today, as well as Danny, though I'm sure the only reason Danny came is because Howard is too drunk to drive.

Still no news on Forrest.

I feel awful for Jack. After losing Lorelai, what if something happens to Forrest? Jack had already lost so much with his parent's death, I fear for how he might react if Forrest doesn't make it.

* * *

The doctor finally has a relieving word on Forrest's condition. They've managed to stop the internal bleeding and they are optimistic about his recovery even though it will be a slow one.

That seems enough for Howard, and he quickly exits the hospital, yelling for Danny.

"What happened? Was it Mason's men?" Jack asks.

"Yes."

"Why would he go after them?"

"I did."

"That's stupid, Charlotte. Are you tryin' to get yourself killed?"

"I wanted revenge for what they did to her."

He shakes his head. "Come on, Cricket," Jack murmurs.

Am I wrong? It only angers me further that Forrest went and stuck his nose in a place it didn't belong. Just like the day he got involved back at my house. I was handling things just fine!

* * *

"Only for a few minutes." The nurse gestures her hand out with the okay to go inside Forrest's room.

I forcefully close the door behind me. "What the hell did you get involved for?"

"You will not swear at me."

"Don't tell me how to speak!"

"Leave the door open please," the nurse tells me.

I slam it right back in her face.

"You sure have a funny way of showin' gratitude."

"Because I am anything but grateful. This wasn't your fight!"

"Mmhm."

"How did you even find me?"

"You realize you coulda died?

"That is my choice."

"Foolish choice."

"Why do you even care?!" I'm so angry, I don't even stick around for his answer, which I'm sure is nothing more than just some stupid grunt, or mumble of displeasure.

* * *

I heave a heavy sigh, watching out the window.

After six days, Forrest hobbles from the truck and up to the porch, inside the station.

I keep my gaze out of the window.

He doesn't utter a sound to me as he shuffles towards the steps and up them.

Well, at least that wasn't awkward. I hate feeling like this. I know I need a change.

"Coffee," one of the drifters demands.

When I lived in New York, I was getting ready to take a job at one of the largest architecture companies. It's been my dream since I was young. It fascinates me. They loved my portfolio, and were eager to hire. I wish so desperately I didn't have to pass on the job to come back here. Everything would have been fine, and Lorelai would still be alive.

"Can I get my check please?"

Maybe I won't ever get that chance again, but I've got to do something.

"Keep the change."

Well, I'm sure not getting back to New York on forty-three cents.

* * *

My bag sits at my feet as I stand outside on the porch waiting for the courage to do this. The sooner I get out of Franklin County, the better.

Forrest comes outside, letting out a tired grunt as he sits down.

We still haven't spoken since the hospital. "Thank you for everything."

"Mmhm." He looks away from me, staring down the road.

That's it, huh? Some tired grunt? "Why won't you just say what's on your mind for once? Instead you just sit there, giving me that-"

"I might not say what I feel but that don't mean you hop on the first way outta here."

"How can you say that when it's clear across your face that you hate me?"

"I don't hate you. Never even crossed my mind. Knowin' you'll just throw everythin' away to avenge Lorelai, it doesn't make a lick of sense'n it angers me."

"I don't expect you to understand."

"Well, I reckon you've got everythin' figured out then. I'll take you to the station."

"No, I'll walk."

He moves his hand outward. "You gonna walk all that way'n the pourin' rain?"

"A little rain won't kill me."

"Best be on your way then."

I lean over and pick up my bag, if you could call it that. I don't have much to my name. "Goodbye."

He shifts his toothpick to the other side of his mouth and goes inside the station.

I clench my eyes tight when the screen door slams shut. I decide I'll keep them closed until I can look back and know Blackwater Station was only a memory. The first step off the porch damn near broke my willpower. I figured if anyone could convince me to stay, it'd be Forrest. Finding out he doesn't hate me comes as a surprise, though I suppose none of that even matters anymore.

...

By the time I make it to the ticket counter, I'm a mess. My boots covered with mud, hair matted together from the rain.

"Next."

I put my money up on the counter.

"Where to?"

"Farthest place from here I can get."

"Columbus, Ohio. Train leaves in five."


	7. Chapter 7

"Next."

I'm pushed out of the way by a newlywed couple. I look them over and become spiteful. The girl I knew from school. She was always popular with boys. Even she found someone to love her.

"Columbus, final call."

"Oh, shoot!" I sling my bag over my shoulder and hurry to the last train. The doors were already closed. I bang on them until he opens them up.

"I reckon you almost got left behind," he laughs, pulling his cigar from his mouth.

I never thought I'd be comforted by that smell.

"Come on now, we're on a tight schedule."

I take a step forward and feel an ache in my stomach.

"Miss?"

I look up from the ground at him.

"Well?"

I shake my head no and take a step away from the platform. The train pulls away leaving a cloud of thick dark smoke behind it. I clutch my bag a little tighter. What am I going to do now? I've spent all my money on this stupid ticket that I'm not even going to use. My eyes well up at my own frustrations.

"Mmhm."

I take in a sharp breath.

"I hope you ain't this stubborn when we're married," Forrest says behind me.

Married? I turn on the ball of my heel, looking up at him. "You came after me." I'm still in disbelief even though I see him clear as day standing in front of me.

He holds up his ticket to Columbus. "Always will, Charlotte."

He's never addressed me as anything other than Miss Charlotte. I drop my ticket and my bag, moving against him. My fingers curl around his muted gray cardigan as I cry into his chest.

His arms wrap around me as he encloses any possible space between us.

It's almost difficult to breathe from the hold he has on me. Both physically and emotionally. I can't describe what it's like to be comforted by another human being when you've never had it before. Overwhelming, sure, but to actually feel a safeness from it. I know nothing will ever hurt me like this. I look up at him through my lashes.

His hat keeps the rain from my face. "I know you ain't had it easy, but runnin' don't do no good."

I don't want him to see me like this. He deserves someone just as strong as he is. An equal. Not a girl who runs at the first sign of trouble. Who lets the town folk get under her skin. Or wears the scars from a disappointed father.

Forrest keeps his arm on my shoulder as he guides me through the station.

For those few minutes, I felt untouchable. The way he commands respect is a trait that I'll never possess.

He opens the driver door as I climb in and scoot over. He's thought enough about it to bring a blanket, and drapes it over me.

"Thank you."

He takes a hold of my hand.

I wanted to kiss him but it doesn't seem like the right time. After all, he and I were very private people and this was close enough. My hand stays in his until we get to the station, then we go our separate ways as if nothing ever happened.

...

"Forrest," I say, pushing his door open some, "I wanted to-" My eyes widen as he stares back at me with the same expression. I've walked in on him changing, and even though he has pants on, I'm embarrassed.

"Uh.."

I lower my eyes, taking a step out of his room. "I'm so sorry," I apologize and hurry to mine, shutting the door as fast as I can. My heart races as I press my back against the door. I cover my heated face.

"Charlotte?"

Oh, God, why can't he just go away? Why does this have to be any more awkward than it already is? "Just a minute." I keep quiet for a little while in hopes that he will go away but he impatiently knocks. I take a deep breath and turn around, opening the door.

He hands me one of his shirts.

Of course, all my things are soaked. "Thank you."

"Mmhm."

"I'm sorry. I didn't know you were changing."

His eyes drift off to the side a bit.

"Were you meaning for me to walk in?"

He leans over and gives me a kiss on the forehead, then goes to his room.

I shake my head, shutting my door. I don't sleep at all that night, instead I just lie there, thinking of all the what ifs. Every now and then I'd roll over, thinking he was behind me but it was the scent on his shirt. I move the cuff of the sleeve up and press it to my nose. Come to find out, it was the collar of the shirt I kept smelling. The sun had been up several hours but I am too embarrassed to face him. How stupid, it wasn't like I saw him completely naked. I wait until I hear his truck leave before I start my day. Thankfully, my clothes are almost dry.

* * *

Forrest is wearing the same shirt I slept in the other night.

"I didn't have a chance to wash that shirt."

He looks down like he doesn't remember what he threw on this morning. "Will you look after things here?"

"Of course."

He slips on his hat and heads for the door.

Howard comes barreling past me with a shot gun.

I tense up as I hurry over to the window, watching them speed off. What's going on?

...

Forrest gently touches my shoulder.

I sit upright in the chair.

"Why are you out here, alone?"

"I was waiting for you. I must have fallen asleep. Why are you bleeding?"

"Ain't my blood."

"Are we alone?"

He nods.

"I was worried the way you left this morning. Forrest, you can't just up and leave like that. Howard's storming through the place with a gun in one hand-"

"It's Mason's men. I couldn't tell you."

"I thought they were dead?"

"Well… they are now."

I feel faint because, once again, Howard and Forrest have blood on their hands because of me. My stomach turns so I hurry into the station to the restroom.

...

I tip toe down stairs, hoping the creaking wood doesn't wake him. I've spent the last few hours tossing and turning. I wish I had something to calm my nerves. Maybe this is why people smoked? Or drank. Yeah, maybe a drink would help. I let out a deep sigh. How could I even consider solving anything by drinking?

Forrest walks up behind me.

I can feel his eyes studying me. "I can't sleep knowing there's blood on your hands that shouldn't be. Just like with all the other men you've killed because of me. This is why I wanted to leave Franklin. I don't want you getting hurt because of the mess Daddy got me into. It's not your problem."

"I'm sorry you see it that way."

"You don't?"

"No." Forrest sets his hand on my shoulder, his thumb rubbing up and down on my neck.

The button on my dress comes apart and now it's his thumb on my bare neck. I close my eyes, tilting my head down some. It pulls every nerve to the surface, giving me goosebumps. Part of me wonders if I could ever have the effect on him like he does me.

He flicks the button closed then takes his hand away. "You should get to bed."

No, don't stop. Come back!

The screen door is opened, but it doesn't close. He's holding it open for me. "Come on now."

"Yeah… sure."

* * *

Forrest and I kept our relationship, if you could call it that, a secret. Not just from his brothers, but from everyone. I didn't want to hurt Jack with everything that happened with Lorelai or give Howard another reason to hate me. It was difficult though. Sometimes, I'd find him watching me instead of doing his books. He would always deny it though like we just happened to look up at the same time or something. I longed for his touch. That closeness. Even something as innocent as my hand in his.

"Miss.."

Leave it to my work to pull me back into reality.

* * *

I look over my shoulder when a man makes a cat call from behind me.

Howard starts laughing, shaking his head. "I'm just goofin' on you."

I roll my eyes, picking up my pace as if I expect to gain any distance.

His strides are long and quick until he's right beside me. "It's dangerous all alone out here. It'd be a shame if somethin' happened to you."

I glare up at him. "You think I'm threatened by you?"

He wraps his arm around me and laughs. "Charlotte, I rather like you. Most of the time."

I slip out of his arm. "You have a funny way of showing it," I mumble.

"You still mad I hurt you?"

I shake my head no. It's the truth.

"I'm upset about it still."

"Sure you are. Bet it keeps you up at night."

Howard grabs my hand and pulls me to him. "I ain't got no reason to lie to you."

I glance up at his blue eyes. "It's fine," I assure him. I pull my hand from his. I'm surprised I didn't do it sooner.

"You plan on stayin' a little longer this time?"

I nod my head, starting to walk again.

"My brother is pretty taken with you."

My eyes slightly widen. "Jack?" I play dumb.

"You know I ain't meanin' Jack."

"Forrest has one emotion for everything and it's nothing that would make me think I'm of any interest to him."

"You ain't been lookin' then."

"Am I supposed to?"

"That'd be up to you."

I don't say anything else on the matter.

"So, we're back to silence?"

"You stopped talking to me, Howard."

"I was jealous. Here we were finally getting along, and I was starting to feel things. It angered me when you were so opposed to having me touch you, but were so accepting of Forrest."

That's why he left the station in a hurry that day. "How come you yelled at Jack?"

"Because, Jack being with Lorelai meant we'd never have somethin'. Being my sister and all."

"Forrest was upset, too?"

"He'll never come out and say it, but he was."

"Howard, my heart belongs to Forrest."

"I know it does, and it's taken me a while to see that. I always figured we'd have somethin'. Our children would have been pretty ruthless though. Hell, they wouldn't take shit from nobody."

I can't help but laugh. "Howard, how much have you had to drink this morning?"

"Not near enough I suppose to be talkin' about this sorta thing with you."

"Well, there you go." I point at the bar when we make it into town.

"I'll just follow you around instead."

"That isn't necessary and I doubt you came all this way just to follow me around." I step into the general store, leaving him in the street.

A little girl smiles up at me. "I like your boots."

"Thank you," I laugh.

Her mother comes up and scoops her into her arms, giving me a disapproving look. "Do not talk to that woman," she mumbles, thinking I can't hear. Or maybe it was her intention that I'd hear.

I'm a fool to think I'd go in this store without some type of problem.

The cashiers snicker at me. "There's really nothing here for women like you."

"Please," I start, clenching my change purse tight. "I just want to purchase these things and be on my way."

"Don't you Slaughter's usually pay for things on your knees?"

I push myself away from the counter, flinging open the front door. I chastise myself even more when I start to cry. "Howard, I said stop," I snap, when another small rock is tossed at my back. I turn around only to find two men.

"You Slaughter's even chargin' these days?"

I hit him in the face, breaking his nose.

A third man comes up and grabs me, pulling me against him.

"Let me go right now," I yell, stepping on his toe as hard as I can.

"Goddammit," he yells.

The other one closes in on me and pulls out his knife, putting it against my throat. He wraps his filthy hand around my mouth so I can't scream as if anyone in this town's going to help me. I'm drug behind the general store. If it's something I will not be, it's a victim, nor will I suffer the same fate as Elizabeth. I break free only to be stopped by the man whose nose I broke.

"You ain't gettin' away from us." He pins me to the wall as the other one rips open the front of my dress with his knife.

I try and cover myself but my arms are forced apart.

"Not as nice as Elizabeth's but they'll do," he laughs before his head is forced forward into the concrete wall.

I look up to see Howard pulling his knife out and lodging it in the throat of the other man. I grab my ripped dress, covering myself up.

Howard's strength is unlike anything I have ever seen.

It makes me realize just how lucky I am. Not that I feel he would ever hit me, I just never realized who I had been threatening this entire time.

He doesn't have the restraint that Forrest does because when he's done with these men I don't even recognize them. He wipes his bloody hand off on his pants leg and cups my cheek. "Did they hurt you?" He's not even winded.

My eyes pool with tears as I shake my head no. "Thank you so much, Howard."

He unbuttons his checkered shirt and drapes it around me.

I put my arms in it as he buttons the shirt for me.

"Come on, let's get you home."

"Howard, I'm sorry," I cry, keeping my feet planted.

"What for?"

"Everything. You are the last person that should have helped me and you did it without a blink of an eye."

"I told you, I rather like you. Especially your mean streak," he smirks.

I smile and wipe my tears.

"I know you hate us for sellin' to your Daddy but it wasn't anythin' personal."

I nod and give him a kiss on the cheek.

He lightly touches my back, leading me through the alley. "Where's your things at?"

"I didn't get anything."

"I'll watch after you if you need to get a few-"

"No, please, I just want to go back."

He nods and we start down the road.

"May I hold your arm? I'm a little rattled still."

"Want me t'carry you?"

"No," I slip my arm around his, "this will do fine."

"You messed that one guy up so bad his nose was turned sideways. Where'd you learn that?"

"New York is a rough place for two girls. Thought it'd be best if I learned."

"Elizabeth always said you were the tough one."

"I didn't know you talked to her."

"I know you think I treated her like those men but I didn't, and I didn't mind when she'd talk neither. All three of you girls have a calmness about you. Must get it from your Mama."

"Yeah, well, Mama.. she wouldn't let a couple of men rattle her, that's for sure."

"Stop it, Charlotte. I ain't listenin' to you put yourself down. You're a survivor and tough as nails. Hell, when Forrest marries you, you'll be a Bondurant and ain't nobody gonna mess with you then."

"Think they'll call me invincible, too?"

"That's the only thing they better call you."

I let out a laugh, holding his arm tighter. "Don't tell Jack about Forrest and me. I just don't want to upset him after Lorelai."

"I ain't gonna do nothin' you don't want me to."

"Then don't say anything to Forrest about what happened in town."

He nods and looks away from me.

I have long waited for the day that Howard and I could finally be civil with each other. Feels like a weights been lifted off my shoulders.

He told me more about himself that walk home than I think anyone else knew. Like how the war had really messed with his head and how it didn't seem so bad when he drank. It was almost like Daddy except Howard would always be the better man. Hell, he'd done more for me than Ray ever did.

"Thank you again, Howard." I say, giving him another kiss on the cheek. The porch creaks as I turn my attention towards the front door.

"Mmhm." Forrest looks at me and then up at Howard before his attention comes back to me. His eyes widen as he takes a step towards me. "Who touched you?"

"No one, I'm fine," I say, backing up against the railing.

He cups my cheeks, tilting my head some.

I swallow hard but the lump in my throat won't go away.

"I asked you a question now."

"Forrest, leave it alone," Howard murmurs.

Forrest narrows his eyes and unbuttons the first button on Howard's checkered shirt. After the third one, he finds my dress ripped and stops. His eyes shift violently side to side as he grits his teeth. He pulls off his cardigan and puts it over me too.

I'm scared of what his intentions are. "Forrest, please," I beg when I see the veins in his neck start to surface.

"Get in the truck, Howard."

Howard looks down at me, then grabs Forrest's arm when he starts for the truck. "I killed them," he says under his breath.

I hurry into the station, and up the stairs.

"No." Forrest presses his hand to my doorframe. "Let me clean you up." He points to his room.

I don't want him to have to clean me because I'm too weak to defend myself from a bunch of drunk degenerates. My forehead puckers when I sit on his mattress. Some of the springs are broken, making it lumpy and uncomfortable. He's a grown man, why isn't his bed made? I quickly straighten it before he gets back.

His eyes shuffle side to side. "Mmhm." He sets the small shooter on his chair before having a seat beside me on the bed.

"You don't have to do this."

He presses the cloth to my cheek, gently running it down my jawline. "What if Howard hadn't gone with you?" There's conviction in his voice.

"I don't know."

He drapes my hair over the other side of my shoulder and cleans my neck.

I ease my hand between his legs.

"Uh." He lets out a heavy breath before he stills my hand.

I can feel him start to harden and then my hand is taken away.

"Hmm."

"I want you to be the one to take it from me, not by men behind some general store as I'm pinned down by a knife."

"You're just shaken up. You ain't thinkin' in your right mind."

"Why is it so difficult for you to accept that I want to lay with you?"

"Because I ain't deservin' of it, Charlotte."

"That's my decision."

"I want this to be special for you'n on your terms. I think we should wait."

"Okay," I whisper.

He clears his throat and leaves his room, coming back just as quick with a dress in his hand. "I seen this dress in the store."

"It's beautiful," I tell him, running my fingers over the soft material. It's white and short sleeved with an intricate pattern.

"I got the smallest size they had."

My eyes move up to his. I'm a little taken back. That must have been a sight to see him fumbling through dresses to pick one out. "Thank you, Forrest."

"I thought you could wear this."

"Well, isn't that the idea?

He shakes his head side to side. "Wear it on our weddin' day."

I let out a loud sob, shaking my head. "Of course I will."


	8. Chapter 8

"Charlotte?" Jack asks, sitting down at the bar.

"You hungry?"

His eyes glaze over.

I set down the rag on the counter and go around the bar. "Come here," I say, giving him a hug.

"I miss her so much," he cries.

"I know," I tell him, becoming choked up myself.

"What if I wake up one day and forget what her voice sounded like?"

"I think about that myself. Her laugh or rather her giggle."

"I'm sorry, I ain't got any right comin' to you about her. I only knew her a few months. I can't imagine what it's like for you."

"I'll see her again one day when it's my time."

"You think I'll see her again?"

"I don't know, I heard this silly story about the Bondurant's being immortal and all."

He laughs, wiping his face.

"Jack, I'm sorry that I tried to keep you two apart. It wasn't right."

"You did right by me and I don't resent you at all, Charlotte."

I give him a soft smile, rubbing his arm.

"Cricket says meet him out back," Forrest interrupts us.

I drop my hand, putting it by my side in hopes that Forrest didn't see my hand on him.

"I guess I better get on after him."

"That could have waited, we were talking," I gripe at Forrest once Jack has left.

Forrest lets out a grunt and has a seat in his normal spot.

I roll my eyes and go back behind the bar.

Forrest slides his coffee cup across the table.

I'm sure he won't even drink it. It sits there and gets cold, then he looks at me like I purposely served it that way. "There."

Forrest points to the chair next to him.

I ignore him and take the pot of coffee back. "You know, I don't understand why you're being like thi-"

"I aint gonna ask you again. Sit."

"You didn't ask me to begin with. You just pointed at the chair like I'm some-"

"Charlotte," he raises his voice.

It frightens me. What could I possibly have done to upset him enough to shout? "Alright, what is it?"

He slides a letter across the table that's addressed to me.

It's been opened, not that it bothers me. I have nothing to hide from him. It's from Shreve, Lamb & Harmon. It's the Architecture firm I had an internship in New York. "Did you read it?"

"Mmhm."

"Well, you shouldn't worry about it. I'm not going back."

Forrest grabs my arm before I can get out of my seat. "Yes. You are."

"Why would I leave knowing it upsets you?"

"Because if I had known you was this talented, I never would have gone after you that day at the train station. Charlotte, they want to use one of your designs for a buildin' in New York."

"They... they do?" I'm dumbfounded, and read the letter for myself.

"You pack your things'n I'll buy you a train ticket. Take you there myself to make sure you go."

"No! You don't get a say in this. This is my decision."

Forrest stands up as his chair scrapes across the wood. "You pass this up, you'll regret more than your choice."

I watch him shuffle towards his office. He thinks I'll grow to resent him. I read the letter over once more before stuffing it in my apron. A year is a long time to be away. What do I do?

* * *

Shreve, Lamb & Harmon sent me another letter. This makes four in the last few months. I sneak them in the trash when Forrest isn't paying attention. It's been rather somber around the station. Forrest is, well, Forrest. Stoic as ever. Howard is slurring out the window at some cat he can't seem to get rid of. I'm not entirely convinced the cat is even real, but, instead, one of his drunk hallucinations as he clutches his mason jar of white lightning. Jack always brings a smile to my face, and for the first time since Lorelai, there's a smile on his, though it fades when he sees me. He's been avoiding me a lot lately. I follow him to his shack around the side of the station. "You never showed so I had to eat that entire pie by myself. Blueberry. Your favorite. I didn't save you any."

"Ch- Charlotte," he stammers.

I frown and lean against the doorway. "Why are you giving me the cold shoulder? Did I do something wrong?"

"No. No."

"Okay, I lied, I saved you a piece-"

"I found someone else, Charlotte."

"To make you pie?"

"No," he laughs, seeming slightly relieved.

I knew Jack would find someone else. He's too kind of a spirit not to. "I just want you to be happy, and I think that she would, too."

He wraps his arms around me. "I love you, Charlotte."

Oh? My eyes well up as I hold him a bit tighter. "I love you, too, Jack."

* * *

It's been raining for five days. I thought it would have stopped by now. Howard and Forrest have been gone most of the morning, leaving Jack and I to tend to the station. "Jack, do you think you could look after things for a bit?"

"Where you headed?"

"Just into town a bit." I know that Jack is taken with Bertha, but it's still difficult for him to talk about it and I didn't want to tell him I was going to see Lorelai.

"Think it's a good idea in this rain?"

"I'll be fine," I assure him, going out onto the porch. I slip on my boots and head down the path to Lorelai's grave. The flowers have started to bloom, filling in nicely. "I miss you. I hope you aren't letting Elizabeth pick on you too much." I smirk but it quickly fades and I fall to my knees, letting out a loud sob. "Come back, please," I whimper, curling my fingers around the grass. It wasn't fair. I can't help but feel like it's my fault. I made her naïve to what was really going on. Every day I just feel guiltier. "I'm sorry."

Forrest squats and puts his arms around me. "Day after day I come stand out here'n watch you beg for forgiveness. This ain't on you, Charlotte. Never has been."

I didn't know he followed me.

He leans in to kiss me, but I lower my head some.

"Not in front of her, please."

His lips settle against my temple instead.

I never thought I'd turn the man down, but it just doesn't seem right. Just one more thing I feel guilty about.

"Lemme draw you a bath."

"No. I just want to spend some time with her. I'll be fine. Honest." I don't believe my own lie, and I know Forrest didn't, but he respects my wishes.

...

The rain finally stopped. Maybe it was her doing. I try and clean the mud from my dress and boots as best as I can before I step into the station. "Hi, Miss, may I help you?" I ask the redhead.

"The word around town is that the station needs help?"

"Oh. Well, that's Forrest, let me get him for you."

"He the one with the blank expression?"

"Yes, that's him."

"Too bad then, he didn't seem interested," she laughs nervously, taking another puff on her cigarette.

She looks like one of those gals in the pictures. Is she famous? "I hope you don't mind me asking, but what brings you all the way out here?" And why does she want a job at this place?

"You related to Forrest?" She gives a chortle at her own words.

"He's my… brother," I lie, knowing how secretive the two of us are about things.

"Well, maybe you can help. I'm staying in town if you can persuade him."

"I didn't get your name."

"Maggie. Maggie Beauford."

"I'm Charlotte."

"Thanks, Ms. Bondurant."

Ms. Bondurant. I like the sound of that. I start to smile, but it's quickly taken over with anger. I find Forrest in his office stashing away some of his money. "Did you know the word around town is that Blackwater Station needs help? Why would people think that, Forrest?"

He quietly closes the door behind me with a grunt.

His silence tells me that it was his decision to look for someone.

"Charlotte, I want you to go to New York. Now, you hear?"

"I- I don't want to."

"Yes, you do. It's 'bout time you started doin' things for you. I'll be here when you get back. Maggie's gonna tend the station, and that's final."

"Well, you better tell her because she seems to think you don't want her here."

"Mmhm."

"Alright, I'll go into town tomorrow and tell her, but that doesn't mean I'm going to New York. Now I mean it, Forrest. This is my decision."

"Don't be stupid, Charlotte."

"Stupid? So you think what we have is stupid?"

His eyes slowly drift towards mine.

"Who am I kidding? What we have? You can't even tell me how you feel, you stubborn bastard." I slam his door behind me, and turn in for the night.

* * *

I liked Maggie a lot. She reminded me of Jack, and with him spending most of his time with Bertha, it was nice to have a friend again. Maggie had the most elegant clothes I had ever seen.

"Here, try this one."

"Try it on?"

"Well, yeah," she laughs.

Maybe something like this would get Forrest's attention.

"Do you like it?"

"I love it."

"Take it. It's too small for me."

"We're the same size."

"No," she laughs. "I've got about ten pounds on you."

"Well, may I pay you-"

"No! Now put it on!"

It drags because I'm a few inches shorter than her. Still, I can hem it. "It's so beautiful."

"It's just a dress without you."

"Thank you, Maggie. That's so kind of you." My eyes well up at her generosity.

"Thank you for getting me the job, Charlotte."

"I didn't do anything. Forrest would have hired you. He's just impassive." Among other things, but I can't stay mad at him.

"You wanna go with me to see a picture next week?"

"I'd love to," I smile.

* * *

I'm starting to wonder if Forrest is ever going to make a move on me. Maybe we really are going to talk the rest of our lives. I know I'm not much to look at. I see the looks the other women give him. Whether it be the ones in town or the ones stopping in just for a bite to eat. I started to hate the days it was just Forrest and me at the station. When does the man ever find time to work out because for as much sitting as he does, he sure is well-built. Maybe if I sneak enough booze in his coffee, he'll be more open to using those muscles for something else. I shoot Howard a glare when he sits right in front of my view of Forrest.

"Damn, woman, what's that look for?"

"Howard, it's not even noon. Or are you still drunk from last night?"

"When do you fuckin' care what I do?"

I slam down a saucer and shallow cup, pouring him some coffee to sober up. I'm taking my anger out again on him for something that's not even his fault. "I'm sorry."

Howard looks over his shoulder at Forrest, then back at me. "Fuckin' ridiculous," he gripes, pushing himself away from the bar.

...

"Sit anywhere you like," I smile at the gentleman. I'm surprised when he has a seat at the bar. Most of the business types that come in here like a quiet spot in the back. He's actually quite distracting with his roster of questions. Maggie had today off, and Jack isn't here to help either. I try several times to get the man to leave, but he's not budging. "I suppose you've got some place to be."

"I already missed my train."

"Oh, I'm sorry-"

"Charlotte, stop. It's alright."

I wasn't being sincere, and I don't like hearing my name leave his lips. "We're closing soon."

"That's too bad. You stay in town?"

I've learned you never tell a man where you put your head at night. It's unintentionally inviting.

"The lady said we're closing for the night," Forrest intervenes.

Thank gosh. I almost sigh relieved, and practically close the door on the man.

He leans in to kiss me, but Forrest shoves him as the man slides across the porch in discomfort. "Go on now," Forrest commands and rests his hand on his six shooter.

I hurry to the restroom to wash my face and catch my breath. Situations like this always rattle me. I don't understand why people mistake my kindness as anything other than kindness. Maybe it's because of Elizabeth, but I can't blame this one on her. That man wasn't even from around here.

"I don't want you workin' the counter no more. There's plenty to do 'round here."

"That's a bit extreme for an isolated incident."

"Isolated incident?"

"Y- yes."

"Do you remember that day at the hardware store when you was 17?"

My eyes flood recalling the memory. The manager almost had his way with me that day. It was the closest anyone ever came. I don't remember the attack because, as he was trying to undress me, he hit me over the head with something in his office. When I came to, he was bloody and his face unrecognizable. Wait. "How do you know about that?"

"Mmhm."

I cover my mouth. "Oh, gosh, you were the one that murdered him." I always figured it was one of the sales associates that helped me that day. It was the only time the town folk showed me compassion. "I kept hearing rustling that night when I was walking home. Did you follow me?"

"Yes."

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"Do you think that was the only time I followed you home?"

"It wasn't?"

"Or that I lurked around'n scared other men off?"

"I didn't know."

"Charlotte, there's a lot of things you don't know 'bout me."

"Like?"

"Like how I have wanted you for so long, I've lost track of the days."

"Then have me."

"Right here? On the dirty bathroom floor?"

"Well, there's the counter."

He's hardly amused and starts out the front door.

"Forrest, wait!" I hurry around the side of his truck and hop in before he can take off. "Forrest, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to be so forward. I just feel like you'll never want to lay with me, and we're-"

He presses his lips to mine so forceful, it knocks his hat to the floorboard.

Oh! For something I had proposed numerous times, I find myself nervous. My stomach in knots. I lean back, curious on just how serious he is.

He's rather eager, forcing me against the leather.

I hit my head against the knob of the passenger door, but don't say anything, fearful that he'll stop his wandering hands.

"Charlotte," he moans hot against my neck.

I tighten a fist around his messy hair as I expel a sharp breath when his teeth nip at my skin.

His fingers trail up my leg, inching my dress up until his hand settles on my hip.

"Come here you damn cat," Howard slurs from the porch, chucking his mason jar.

I want to be mad at Howard for taking this moment away, but instead, Forrest and I just laugh. Now I understand why Forrest hasn't tried to rush into things. Have we really waited all this time to be cramped and frozen in the truck? Howard hallucinating in the background. "I know," I tell him.

He situates my dress back down, pulling me up in the seat.

I'm a little embarrassed when I notice the windows are starting to fog.

"I meant what I said. About wanting to lay with you."

It makes me feel empowered. Mostly because he's wanted me longer. Forrest gives me this sense of self-worth. A confidence I'll never understand. I flush thinking about him moaning my name.

He clears his throat, situating his pants before he steps out of the truck.

"Don't keep me waiting too long."

* * *

Cricket sighs, releasing one of the curtains. "Still no sign of Howard."

"Keep an eye out for him." I find Forrest in his office.

He seems rattled, shaken.

"I'll go get him," I tell Forrest, taking Danny's truck to scout Howard's usual drinking hideouts. There's a few men that have stopped by wanting to do business with Forrest. Howard was supposed to be back two hours ago to make sure things went smoothly with the men. It really frustrates me that Howard tries to pull this shit, and when I find him, I let him have it. I know a lot of it has to do with my anger for daddy. The difference is, I care for Howard, and don't want to see him follow down that same path as daddy.

Howard is so drunk, he pukes on the seat, and on me. At least, it helps get the liquor out of him. The rest he's sweating out. I don't know how he's even hot. Must be 30 degrees outside. "I'm fuckin' embarrassed."

"You're going to be more embarrassed when I make you go to the river with the washboard and clean my dress."

"I'd do anythin' for you, Charlotte."

"Howard, don't start, please."

"I'm sorry." His eyes well up.

I set my hand on his cheek.

He lowers his head against my shoulder, and lets out a defeated sob.

I don't want to tell him it'll be okay because I don't understand what being addicted to something is like, although I'm sure it's a living hell for him. Instead, I let him cry while rubbing his back and shoulders. I sing him a song from the Marion Harris record he bought me.

He starts to laugh, moving his head up. "You sound like a dyin'... cat-" Howard narrows his eyes to slits. "There's that goddamn cat!" He stumbles out of Danny's truck, and runs across the station parking lot.

Well, I suppose if he can run, he's-

"Charlotte," Howard screams.

Even though he was only a few yards away, it's like time stands still. I've never heard Howard that distraught before.

The cat dangles from Howard's hold on the scruff of its neck.

"Did you kill it?" There's so much blood. How is that cat even alive?

Howard opens his fist to release the cat, and runs for the station.

"No," I cry, dropping to my knees. "No!" I pat the blood pile to get a feel for how much is really there. "Forrest," I shrill.

...

I try to be strong for Howard and Jack as their brother struggles to stay alive. The men Forrest was meeting with tonight cut Forrest's throat wide open. They said Forrest walked to the hospital before collapsing in the doorway. I don't believe it. That's a twenty mile walk. Maggie was at the station when I left. I have no doubt that she saved his life, yet she's nowhere to be found.

"You think it was Rakes that did this?" Jack asks Howard.

There's that name again. Rakes. He's the one who came to the station a few days ago, harassing Forrest. I didn't like the way Rakes looked at Maggie. Hell, I didn't like Rakes, either.

"He's stable," the doctor informs us.

I don't want to see Forrest like that, so I stay in the waiting room.

Howard comes charging through it like a madman after only a few minutes with Forrest.

"What's wrong?" I ask him, and follow after his warpath when he doesn't answer. "Howard!" I tug on his wrist when I'm able to catch up to him, which is no easy task. "Howard, answer me!"

"I should have been there."

"You can't blame yourself for this."

"Those are Forrest's words. Not mine."

"You couldn't have known that-"

"Fuck off, Charlotte. You gonna try and fix me and Forrest? You can't even fix what's broken between the two of you."

I watch Howard speed off in the truck before collapsing to the earth.

* * *

I know makeup covered bruises when I see them. The way Maggie is walking and limping today, I fear that those men gave her a beating. She seemed surprised when I told her what happened to Forrest, but I don't believe her. She's hiding more than bruises and I worry for my friend. I retrieve the mail to find another letter from Shreve, Lamb & Harmon. "Dammit," I sigh.

* * *

I finally muster up the courage to see Forrest, and have a seat on his bed. His coloring is pretty faint. I miss that stupid ratted hat on him.

His heavy eyes move upward.

"I would have come sooner, but I had my reasons."

"Mmhm."

"With everything that's happened, and that crazy deputy, I think you should keep Maggie close. I saw the way he looked at her. I worry about her safety."

"How do you reckon I do that in here?"

"You won't be in here forever. The doctor said a few more days. Maggie can use my room."

His lip tugs upward. "This mean what I think it does?"

"Yes. My train to New York leaves tonight."


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N I chose not to involve Charlotte in the whole Rakes and Bondurant drama because I feel like that's not her story. It was part of my decision to send her away. Other than it being an OC x Forrest fic, I've really tried to stay as true to the movie as I can. This chapter is going to be brief because it's mostly about Charlotte and I didn't really think anyone would be interested in her travels in New York. I say this not to detour you from reading because this chapter does serve an important purpose.**

* * *

"Charlotte?"

I look up from my blueprints and give my boss a smile. "Yes, Sir?"

"I know we kind of went the backwards way of doing things, but we'll need you to attend a few classes. Just legality."

"Sure, whatever you need." Between school and work, I barely slept. I rub my tired eyes, and open my apartment front door to several knocks. I have the most annoying neighbors that don't respect I work long hours. My mouth practically hits the floor.

"Fancy, huh?" Jack grins, tugging at the lapels on his suit jacket.

"What are you doing here?" I laugh, pulling him into a hug.

"I missed you!"

My eyes well up. "I missed you, too. Come in, I'll make you some tea." I am taken back at the fact Jack would spend the time and money to come see me, but there is a part of me that's a bit saddened by his visit. I've been here almost three months and haven't heard anything from Forrest. He can't even use the phone? I guess by that same logic, I could pick it up, too, but dammit! Maybe I'm being unreasonable. This **is** Forrest we're talking about. Still, is that an excuse? Why is he even with me? Are we even together? We might as well just be friends.

"Charlotte," Jack calls.

"What?"

He starts to chuckle. "Your tea kettle. You don't hear it whistling?"

"Oh, sorry, I'm more tired than I thought." Why is lying so natural for me? Shut up, Charlotte, quit feeling sorry for yourself. "Jack, I'm sorry. You came all this way, and I'm just in my own world."

"You worry too much, Charlotte."

Yeah. I guess I do. That's just my way. "So, tell me about Bertha," I smile.

* * *

"Morning, Walter," I smile, handing him a paper bag.

"Morning, Miss Charlotte." He digs into the bag.

"It's peanut butter I'm afraid."

"That don't matter. You know I'm just grateful."

I met Walter my first day in New York. As I was stepping off the train, he asked if I had any spare change. He's actually a brilliant man, but he lost his way when the addiction got him and he lost everything. I've been trying to help get him back on his feet. I don't mind making him an extra lunch. I'm just happy to see him kick that habit.

"Cards tonight?"

"Don't think I don't see those cards up your sleeve, Walter."

"Now, Miss Charlotte, I'd never do such a thing," he simpers.

"I'm watching you," I laugh.

* * *

I finally get to put the dress Maggie gave me to good use. We're meeting with the business partners today on the building I'm designing. I find it a little weird the way they're going about this. We're already a month into construction. I mean, my part is done. What if they don't like it? I take a step back and look myself over in the full length mirror. I've never liked my appearance before, but I feel timeless right now. I wish Forrest could see me. Maybe I'd get more than some tired grunt. I do miss those though.

...

They're running late. We've been in here for over twenty-three minutes. I know this because one of my bosses feels the need to shout it off every minute they're late. When they finally show, I'm relieved not to have to hear him count. My eyes widen as our clients fill the room. My palms sweaty. My heart accelerating. I know everyone in that room can see the panic look on my face. To them, I am just nervous about meeting a client.

"This is Charlotte," my boss introduces. "Charlotte, this is Mr. William Mason."

It's at that moment, I realize that Forrest said Mason's men were all dead, but never Mason himself.

Mason couldn't be happier as he eyes me over with a chortle.

His voice bothers me more than if he would have pulled the gun on me right there. What are his plans? Did he know that I would be the one working on his project? Oh, god. Is… Is he the reason I got this job? My presentation to him and his men couldn't have been worse. By the time it's over, my head is spinning. Just take me out of my misery. Please.

"I'd like to talk to Charlotte. Wait for me outside," Mason tells the other business partners.

It looks like I just might get my wish. I don't know what else to do other than to confront him. "I have your money."

"I don't want your money."

"I don't understand."

"When my building is finished, I'm going to bury you under it."

"Good luck." I don't know where this sudden assertiveness comes from. I've cheated death before, I can do it again!

"I will kill you if it's the last thing I do. If you run, I will spend every dime to hunt you down."

"Spend every dime? You couldn't even part with seven hundred dollars. I'm not threatened by you."

"I won't start with you first. No. I'll go after the brothers first."

"They don't have anything to do with this!"

He wraps his fingers around my throat.

I can't scream, I can't even whimper.

"If you run, I will kill them." He loosens his grip.

"Why should I believe you?"

"Because." He flings me to the ground. "You don't have a choice."

I know I said I wasn't threatened by him, but I am, and sit by my apartment door that night with a kitchen knife. Every thump from the neighbors, every pipe settling, and all the moans and groans from the wooden stair case rattle me even more. I don't think I'm ever going to sleep again.

* * *

I received a letter from Forrest today.

_Sweetest Charlotte,_

_I spend my days on the porch, starin' down our road, waitin' to see you walkin' up the path. It's the only way to keep track of time because it's all startin' to run together. I don't like bein' inside because I look up from my work, only you're not there._ _I find it a little easier to say the things that need to be said when I write them down. Isn't that stupid? Grown man can't say what he means. Don't make me wait much longer or I'ma buy a ticket to come'n get you._

_Forrest_

All these months patiently waiting to hear something from him and the letter decides to come today of all days. I can't even enjoy it and sob onto the paper, ruining it entirely. When I try and dry it off, I just end up smearing the ink. Once again, I find myself wondering what I'm going to do.

* * *

My phone rang earlier this morning, but I was afraid to answer it. Later that afternoon, it rings again. "…Hello?"

There's heavy breathing on the other end, followed by the clearing of the man's throat. "Charlotte, it's Howard."

"Howard!" Our last conversation didn't end so well, so I'm eager for the chance to get to speak to him.

"Be quiet and listen here to what I'm 'bout to say."

"Oh, okay."

"Forrest is in the hospital. Rakes shot him several times."

I cup my mouth and sob into it. "No," I cry.

"They think he'll be alright. I'll call you in a couple of days'n let you know for sure."

"No, I'm coming home."

"Look, he don't want you here. In fact, if he knew I was tellin' you this, he wouldn't be happy. Just thought you should know is all."

"How are you holding up?"

Silence.

"Howard?" Please. I just want to hear a comforting voice.

"If you were mine, Charlotte, I would never let you out of my sight. He didn't even fight to keep you here." The receiver clicks.

* * *

The more time that passes, the sicker to my stomach I become. Hours become days. After a week passes, I'm certain Forrest is dead. If I leave, I put all their lives in danger. There's no answer at the station when I call. That's odd. I figured Maggie would at least pick up.

"You seem down today," Walter frowns.

"Just tired."

"Cards tonight?"

"Yes, that will be fine." I give my lunch to Walter because I forgot to pack him one, and continue on my way to work. We have a big meeting today on this new project. Except I sat in the restroom and cried. My boss sent me home thinking I'm sick. More like, home sick. I can't take the uncertainty, and board the first train I can.

* * *

"Bondurant," I repeat to the nurse. "His name is Forre-"

"No, he was released a few days ago."

A few days ago? But Howard said that he would call me! Oh, gosh! I start running for Blackwater Station, fearing Mason has already got to them before I can. If Forrest claimed to walk twenty miles with his throat cut open, I can run there. Luckily, after two miles, I'm able to hitch a ride.

...

I set down my bag on the bar and look for his puff of smoke in the dark station. The curtains hadn't been opened today, in fact, it seemed like this place had been shut down for days. "Forrest?" My nervous voice calls.

"Have a seat." It wasn't like his usual tone either. He's upset.

I have fantasized about this moment so many times and I feel like it's taken away from me. There's a part of me that's relieved that he's okay, but I've never heard him upset like this. I slither down in my seat, trying to prepare myself for what is about to come.

"Somethin' happened while you was gone'n I ain't too proud."

Judging by the state of this place, that means one thing. No, please. **Not this**. Not after everything. "Does it have to do with Maggie?"

"Mmhm." He leans over and puts out his cigar. "Yeah."

I can feel the weight of my chest crushing me, like the cigar tip as it twists back and forth against the ash tray. " **Goddamn** you, Forrest!"


	10. Chapter 10

**A/N I meant to mention this in the last chapter, but I've changed the rating on this to an M.** **Sad to say, but we are nearing the end of the story. There will be two more chapters after this though!**

* * *

_Sometimes we don't do things we want to do so that others won't know we want to do them. – Ivy Walker_

* * *

"Don't use that language. **Ever**. You understand me, Charlotte?"

I bite the inside of my cheek, looking away from him. "I don't care what you have to say." He reaches for my hand as I jerk it away. "Don't touch me!"

"Wait just a minute now."

"No!"

"You're gonna listen to everythin' I have to say. I don't ask much from you but this is one thing you **will** do."

I fold my hands in my lap and look down. "Do you love her?"

Forrest gets on one knee in front of me. It wasn't like him to be submissive. He rests his hands on my hips. "I hope you know that not to be true."

I feel some relief, but did him not loving her make it any better? Now she's nowhere to be found. She couldn't even face me? Couldn't apologize?

"Maggie… she… she came to my room." He reddens recalling the memory. "Forward to a point she was naked as the day she was born."

I close my eyes, covering my mouth.

"Nothin' happened, though I don't know why I have to say it, but the look on your face tells me you figured somethin' did."

I take in a sharp breath and lock eyes with him. Of course. Maggie didn't know. No one knows about Forrest and me.

"Reason I ain't too proud is because it never should of got to that point. Charlotte, people are gonna know we're together so somethin' like this will **never** happen again. We spent all this time worryin' about what people think, or sparin' feelin's, but at what cost? I hope that you understand how strongly I feel for you." Forrest digs into his cardigan pocket and fishes something out. "I- I have this for you." It's a rose gold ring with a square sapphire stone.

I wrap my arms around his neck, sobbing against it. What a fool to think Forrest wasn't loyal to me. "I'm sorry."

"Nothin' to be sorry for, though I'd rather like it if you'd agree to take this here ring'n be my wife."

"Yes," I laugh at his tone. "It fits perfectly."

"I know it does."

"What do you mean?"

"There was a ring inside that black box I got from your room when the house burnt down. I took it from the box'n I had this one here sized."

My expression goes blank. "You've had this ring for two years?"

"Mmhm… yes."

"What the hell were you waiting for, you stubborn bastard?!" I hit him across the head with his own hat.

He lets out a grunt as his eyes shuffle side to side. "That day you left for the station, I was gonna give it to you then, but you stormed out of here in such a fit. By the time I caught up after you, I just didn't feel like it was the right time. I told you. Grown man can't say what he means."

"You best figure it out then!"

"Yes, Ma'am."

My eyes drop as I look over my new piece of jewelry. A symbol that I belong to him. An absolution. A certainty.

Forrest returns to his seat and slides the morning paper across the table. He taps his finger on the front page.

It's just like the two of us to pretend something as life changing as a proposal didn't happen. My eyes shift over towards the article. They've done a piece on the building I designed, but my smile quickly fades. "Did you read this?"

"No, I was about to."

I scoot it back to him, and point to the small print.

He grits his teeth.

"I think Mason's the reason I got the job in New York."

"Did he threaten you?"

"He threatened all of us."

"I asked if he threatened you!"

"He said he was going to bury me under that building." Forrest's chair sliding across the wood startles me. "Wait," I call, snatching his sleeve. "What are you going to do? Run around New York with your six shooter in hand until you find him?"

"I don't know, but you ain't going back to New York."

It feels good to hear his concern vocalized for once. Now if only he would have stopped me the first time. "Did Maggie go back to Chicago?"

"She's in town."

"I need to speak with her."

"I'll take you then."

"Do you really think she wants to face you right now?"

"Mmhm."

He hands me his gun.

I don't want it, but I take it.

"You go right there'n right back. Charlotte, I want your word."

"I won't be long."

"If you ain't back in one hour, I'm comin' for you."

Mason is always on the back of my mind. Seeing Forrest concerned doesn't help matters. I'll admit, it is stupid for me to leave, but I need to do this. Maggie is my friend, and I won't have this eating at her.

...

Maggie ties her robe more. "H- Hey."

"Do you have a second?"

"I didn't know, Charlotte, I swear."

"It's okay. Really." I drop my head some. "Nobody knows about Forrest and me."

"He looked so lost without you. I just thought he was lonely, and read into the signals all wrong."

"Yeah, I know a bit about reading him wrong," I laugh softly.

"Do you hate me?"

"I could never hate you. It's just a silly misunderstanding is all. Please, don't leave. Come back to the station."

"I can't."

"You're not safe here, and I'm not ready to say goodbye to you," I frown.

Maggie pulls me into a hug.

I've never had a friend before. I know that sounds silly, and I guess maybe I could count Walter, or Jack, but the friendship I have with Maggie is different. I look up to her in all the ways I never could Elizabeth. Maggie was the strongest woman I have ever met. I really can't blame her for coming onto Forrest. Women like us are just drawn to people like him.

"Let me get my things," she smiles.

* * *

Howard comes and has a seat at my feet like a mutt. He lays his head in my lap.

We're both such early risers, but sometimes I wonder if it's because we just never seem to sleep. The sun isn't even up yet. I run my fingers in his unkempt hair.

"I fuckin' missed you."

"You have such a way with words," I laugh.

"Look, there's somethin' you don't know."

I'm starting to wonder if I can handle any more truth these days. "Well?"

"You promise you won't be upset at me?"

"How can I promise something like that?"

He sighs and gets up from the porch. "Follow me."

It strikes me a bit odd when he takes me to his place out back.

Howard sets a few boxes on his bed, and pulls the lid from the first one.

I lean over, peeking inside the box. I thought maybe they were letters he had written to me, but just never had the courage to send them. Then I see that the sender is Forrest. In fact, they're all from Forrest.

"To save you the trouble of counting, it's two hundred and seventeen letters."

It's one for every day I was gone in New York, aside from the one I received.

Howard takes one from the other box and gives it to me. "This is the letter he wrote the day Rakes shot him. I found it on his nightstand when I was collectin' his things to fetch him from the hospital. It wasn't sealed, so I read this one. Charlotte, I kept those other letters because I don't believe Forrest is a good enough man for you. Hell, I ain't either, but I've always told you the truth about my feelin's for you. He'd rather you read his fuckin' mind, or write it in a goddamn letter and that ain't love. Then I read this letter and I see just how wrong I am."

I remove the paper so fast from the envelope, I rip it while doing it.

_Sweetest Charlotte,_

_I remember the day you'n Lorelai up'n left for New York. I knew it meant that I'd never get to say all the things I'd want. Every time I'd get the courage to say them, I'd see how happy you were to be gone from Franklin County'n I couldn't bring myself to come between that. I didn't want to complicate things with your new life, so I waited in hopes that you'd find your way back._

I turn the envelope over and dump out old train tickets. Forrest had come to New York every year that I was away. Always around my birthday.

_This is why I pushed you so hard to go to New York this time because, after Lorelai, I just want you to be happy. Only this time, I find myself thinkin' about me and not you, and how much I need you. I'm sorry if you end up resentin' me, but I can't watch someone else walk in the station door that ain't you. I'm comin' for you, Charlotte. I'm comin for you, and I'm bringin' you home, and when I do, I'm goin' to marry you so that I never have to watch you leave again._

_Forrest_

"Oh, gosh," I sob. I've been wrong about Forrest all along, too. He really has cared for me all these years.

"He's so goddamn impassive, I didn't realize how he felt for you. How he's **always** felt. It wasn't right for me to come between that."

Oddly, this means more to me now than if I would have received them like I was intended.

"I'm sorry." Howard wipes my tears.

"It's okay. Thank you, Howard."

"No. Thank you, Charlotte. You're the best thing that ever happened to us. You showed us all how to be better men."

He'd have to wipe my tears away again because they aren't stopping. "That's not the white lightning talking, is it?"

"I haven't had a drink since you left."

I move my arms around his waist. "I'm so proud of you." I let out a grunt. "Too tight, Howard."

"Sorry," he laughs, losing his vice grip on me.

"We'll talk later, okay?"

His lip tugs upward. "Yeah. Okay."

I think I make it back to the station in three steps because I'm practically leaping in the back door. "Forrest," I call as I hurry up the steps. "Forrest!"

He's sitting on his bed, buttoning up his shirt.

I set the letter on his lap.

"Uh.." He clears his throat, like he's embarrassed for sending them.

"Yeah, I expected as much out of you."

He gives me some stoic stare before he puts on his v neck sweater. "I wondered where that letter went."

I shake my head, plopping down next to him. It's anything but graceful because dammit! "You know, I wish you'd look at me with half the passion you put into these lett-"

Forrest pulls me against him by the small of my back, his lips silencing me. It was nothing like I before. He takes charge, leaving me at his mercy.

What the hell am I doing exactly? I tried to mimic his moves but it's too intense, too quick.

His hands run down my back until he grabs my behind and pulls me on his lap.

I push his ragged hat up, deepening the kiss, but he throws it to the ground and stops our kiss only to pull his v neck sweater over his head. Oh, gosh. Is this really happening?

He grabs my hands and places them on his chest, then pulls down his suspenders.

I swallow hard and nervously start to undo the buttons on his shirt as he pulls what part of the shirt is tucked in his pants out and helps me undo the rest of his buttons. I move the shirt over his broad shoulders. My eyes lower, studying his muscular frame.

He shakes the shirt from his arms and starts kissing my neck, down my collarbone.

My fingers run through his short hair, letting out several deep breaths the farther down his lips travel. I thought I'd help him by unzipping my dress, but he stills my hand.

"Charlotte, is this what you want?"

"I want to feel you."

"Mmhm," he groans excited, pressing me to his bed. He gets to his knees, running his fingers up my legs.

I lift my hips up some so he can reach under my dress and take my panties off with ease.

He shakes his head no, stretching over me. "Not yet," he replies in my ear before his lips move downward.

He'd rather I suffer, but when his teeth sink into my skin, I don't mind the wait. Forrest's lips meet mine, as his hand reaches under me to start unzipping my dress.

I kick these stupid boots to the floor before I'm only left in those. That sure would be a sight to see.

His eyes look me over.

I twist the sheets between my fingers a little embarrassed because I'm not wearing much.

He runs his fingers over my stomach, up my left breast as I moan softly, arching my back. "Charlotte," he draws my name out.

I groan in anticipation. "Forrest, get on with it!" Knowing my luck, the damn house would catch fire before he makes a move.

"Uh.." He doesn't even take his pants off, only unzipping them enough.

Finally! My fingers curl into his arms and I shut my eyes. It wasn't like anything I had expected. In fact, it's painful. I squirm, letting out an uncomfortable whine.

He pulls himself out as I sigh relieved. "Do you want me to stop?"

"I thought it would feel good."

"Open your eyes, Charlotte." When I do, he eases himself back in slow at first, working himself in and out, then pushes all the way inside me.

My mouth opens wide as I throw my head back and his name uncontrollably leaves my lips. I get exactly what I asked for, because he is anything but gentle once I give him the okay.

He sets an eager pace, grunting every now and then with each fierce thrust.

"Forrest," I moan. I'm almost embarrassed at this woman I've become. To let passion take over me like this that I can't control the things I'm saying. We weren't gazing into each other's eyes or any of that nonsense I've always heard people do. I was just trying to figure out how to arch more against him to take him in even further.

His face is planted firmly against my cleavage, only leaving when his lips start to explore every inch of skin.

I dig my fingers into his nape, which I find out quickly he's not too fond of, but I don't care about his opposition. I just want something to grab onto. His skin is hot and slick under my fingers as they start to slip towards the hard contours of his shoulder. I moan again in his ear, then take in the scent of the pomade in his hair. My stomach tightens in anticipation as it's getting more difficult to keep quiet.

"Charlotte," he moans.

My name said in such an intimate setting sends me over the edge. I find my release as his gets caught in my throat.

Forrest doesn't often swear, but a slew of profanity leaves his lips, followed by a grunt. His thrusts start to slow, before he comes to a complete stop.

I'm left immobile trying to catch my breath.

He presses his lips to my temple.

"Do you think less of me since we aren't married?"

"You know I don't."

"I just wanted to hear you say it."

He rubs his thumb over my ring. "Ain't nobody gonna call what's mine anythin' other than by your name."

I have no doubt in my mind there's complete truth to that. Truth that I thought would never come.

...

I look up through my lashes at Forrest from the bar.

He doesn't try to hide the fact he's watching me.

My cheeks redden and I actually find myself giggling. It's the strangest thing, but Forrest does things to me that I cannot logically explain. I feel like a new woman, wishing we could go back upstairs. Maybe that's why I'm blushing.

"Charlotte," Howard huffs, busting in through the station door. "Sheriff Hodges wants to speak to you."

That's odd. I can't imagine why.

Forrest wants to speak to him first, but as soon as I step outside, Hodges joins us on the porch.

"Charlotte Slaughter, you're under arrest," he tells me.

"What?" I dismiss him with a laugh.

"Go on now," Forrest tells Hodges.

A pair of handcuffs are slung around my wrist. "Forrest," I whimper.

Forrest's nostrils flare before he takes Hodges to the ground.

I didn't even notice the eight other lawmen that have gathered around the porch and they are quick to separate the two.

"No," Forrest screams when the Sheriff cuffs my other hand in front of me.

"Forrest, stop," I beg when he tries to lunge at Hodges again.

It wasn't like Forrest to be the irrational one, and Howard having to hold him back.

"Charlotte," Maggie cries.

"You'll take me instead," Forrest tells him.

"Forrest, it don't work like that," Hodges tells him, guiding me towards the police car.

It takes Howard and Jack to restrain Forrest.

"You can't take her from me!"

"It's already settled, Forrest. Inside the car, Charlotte."

Had those murders of Mason's men finally caught up with me?

Forrest runs over to the car. "Charlotte," his muffled voice shouts against the glass before he's pulled back.

"Forrest," I sob, pressing my hand to the window.

He breaks free, placing his hand against mine. "I will come for you!"

"I know you will."

"I love you, Charlotte."


	11. Chapter 11

**A/N Alright, I'm going to start by saying I dislike prison movies / shows, so hopefully this chapter is somewhat believable.**

* * *

2 years later

* * *

_Need your ring, Miss._

I jolt open my eyes, sweaty from my dream.

"Chow," my cell mate tells me.

I roll over and face the wall. Even though I only had my ring for a day, I feel so naked without it. I usually spend lunch in my bunk. This way I can cry without my cell mate seeing me. My solitude doesn't last long today and I'm brought a tray.

"Here." She sets it on the bed.

"Thanks, Peggy." Ironically, Peggy was the first person I got in a fight with. That sort of thing is inevitable in prison, but I put an end to it quickly. I'm not going to be a victim, bullied around by a bunch of women. I refuse. And I didn't realize all the anger I had been holding in all those years. I'm lucky I didn't kill her. I don't need any more time on top of my thirty five year sentence.

"Charlotte, you've got a visitor," the officer tells me.

"No."

"I told them you didn't want to see him," Peggy frowns.

Forrest comes up to see me every single day, but I refuse. I can't see him.

* * *

Later that week I get another visitor. I eye Maggie's swollen stomach. "Congratulations," I smile. "May I ask, uh…"

Maggie lets out a laugh as I join her.

"Really?"

"Yeah. It… just happened one day. I can't explain it," she laughs "He's good to me."

"I know he is. Howard is the best."

"You should see him right now. I think he's built the crib over at least seven times."

Howard was always a good carpenter, so I laugh thinking it's only because he didn't think the crib was up to Maggie's standard.

"This is the absolute worst, Charlotte."

My eyes well up. "All the days are starting to run together."

"You have to see Forrest. He's not well."

"I won't let him see me like this. I want him to remember me the way I was."

"He doesn't care about that. You know this."

"No, Maggie."

"I don't know how to help you," she cries.

It turns out that the actions leading up to my incarceration weren't even for Mason's men. I'm being falsely accused of the murder of two people. Both were found in my apartment in New York. I know it was Mason that framed me, but I have no way of proving my innocence. "Maggie, there's something that I've always wanted to ask you. The day that Forrest's throat was slit, did you come back for him?"

"The snow was starting to come down too heavy, so I turned around. That's when I found him."

I run my fingers across my brow. "I knew it."

"I didn't tell anyone because Rakes' men were at Blackwater. Maybe they were waiting for Howard, or even worse, you."

"Even worse? Maggie, don't say that." I scoop up her hand. "I'm so sorry."

"Promise me you'll never tell Howard and Forrest?"

"Of course."

"Time."

"Take care of yourself." Maggie pulls me into a hug.

"I'm sorry I can't be there," I cry.

They have to pry us apart. This is exactly one of the reasons I don't want to see Forrest. How would I be able to tell him goodbye?

* * *

"You'd think for Christmas we'd get real meat," Peggy scoffs.

"I think it **is** meat," I laugh as the table joins me.

"Mary's going home tomorrow."

"Good for her." Prison is a mind game, and if you let it, it will break you. Though, it's always hard when people leave because there's no telling who will replace them.

"Merry Christmas," Peggy says, setting a little ring in my piece of cake.

My eyes light up. You learn to be pretty crafty here because you're not given much. Peggy was able to melt a few items and make something similar to the ring Forrest gave me. "Thank you so much!"

"One day you'll be able to wear yours again."

I made her some toilet paper dice, and set them on the table.

"Who wants to play?"

"Charlotte, visitor."

I shake my head no, dismissing the officer. I hope Forrest understands my decision.

"Charlotte, you playing?"

"Sure." It's becoming more difficult to keep this façade up.

* * *

I was able to do a few things to help reduce my sentence. It's actually going to take seven years off. I find it rewarding, and it's a nice distraction from everything.

"Charlotte, you've got a visitor."

"No."

"It's not him. It's an older guy."

An older man? I don't know any older men. I take in a quick breath. Mason. "Where?"

"Last booth."

When I make it to the last booth, there's no one there. However, there's a playing card taped to the glass window.

_You were right, I did have a card up my sleeve._

I press my fingers to my lips. Walter!

The officer comes over and removes my handcuffs. "Get your things from your cell."

"I don't understand."

"The state is exonerating you."

"Exonerating?"

"Afraid I don't know much else."

All the women in my cell block, regardless if we didn't see eye to eye, wish me the best.

"Come see me," I smile at Peggy, giving her my address. I promised her that she could work at the station until she gets on her feet.

"Damn, I thought I was going to be out way before you," she chuckles.

"Not much longer. Okay?"

"Go, go! Before they change their mind and try'n keep you!"

"Bye," I smile at these women. Each door the officer opens, the hallway seemed to become brighter. Waking up, I never thought this is how my day would go. "Walter," I cry, giving him a hug.

"Those clothes just don't suit you," he smiles.

"What are you doing here?"

"I watched Mason and his men put those bodies in your apartment. Heard his plan to pin the murder on you. I knew I had to do something for the kindness you had shown me. I'm just sorry it took me so long. Not all people are as kind as you are to some bum on the street. I knew it meant going back to law school and finishing. Anything to try and help get your life back like you did for me. Oh, and you still owe me that game of cards."

"I owe you more than that," I sob. Speaking of owing, I'm given a little over five thousand dollars as compensation pay for the two and a half years I've spent in jail. It turns out, Walter found several things that led to my exoneration. The simplest gesture at the train station saved my life.

...

"Here are your things."

I pull my boots out of the brown bag, and a white lace dress. It's the one that Forrest gave me.

_I thought you could wear this. Wear it on our weddin' day._

He knows! I'm so nervous, it takes me twice as long to get ready. My ring? Where's my ring? I hurry outside and beat on the glass window. "Excuse me! I had a ring-"

"Sorry, wasn't on the list."

"No!" I start hitting the glass again when she ignores me. "Please, will you please check again?" Did someone steal it?

"This way, Miss," another officer tells me. He takes me to the front office where I finish signing the rest of the papers. "You have to sign them."

"I did sign them." I scoot them back to him confused.

Forrest slips my ring on my finger. "Reckon he means with the right last name."

"Forrest," I cry.

We don't wait another second. Forrest and I get married right there. Tears still from the shock of seeing him after all this time.

I can't believe this is finally happening, yet I won't lie. All I want to do is go to a quiet spot, just the two of us. That happens sooner than I think. Turns out, there isn't much to a wedding. I don't mind it. I'm not really the romantic type, and I don't want to be put on some display. The only eyes I want on me are Forrest's.

"Are you disappointed?"

"No. Of course not."

"I shoulda done it sooner, Charlotte."

"Yeah, you should have."

Forrest leans in to kiss me.

I flush, tucking some hair behind my ear as I shy away from him.

"What's eatin' you?"

"We've lost so much time."

"I tried, Charlotte."

"I know, but I didn't want you to see me like that."

"But you came to that decision without me."

"Forrest, you have to see my side."

"No. I don't see your side. Never have. On anythin'."

"We haven't even been married ten minutes, and we're already fighting."

"Mmhm." He starts the truck for our completely awkward silent ride home.

I stomp up the steps as loud as I can. Maybe I'll give him one of Lorelai's famous temper tantrums.

"Charlotte," he shouts, coming after me.

"You are so goddamn obstinate!"

"Don't use that language with me!"

I slam the guest bedroom door behind me as if I expect it to stop him. "Oh," I whimper, looking around the room. All the newspaper articles my building had been in Forrest had framed. He had also built me a drafting table, and got me several things I'd need.

"Shreve, Lamb & Harmon said you could work from here. Or, if you want, we could go to New York."

"How long have you known I'd be getting out?"

"Six months. Walter phoned the station. Maybe if you woulda agreed to see me, you woulda known."

"You should have told Maggie."

"It's none of Maggie's business, Charlotte. I wanted that news to come from me! Not in a letter. Not in a phone call. I wanted to tell you," he yells.

My eyes sink, my stomach in knots. Forrest never raises his voice.

"I might be obstinate, but at least I ain't stubborn as a mule. We have to start makin' decisions together. Tryin' to take Mason on yourself. You catchin' the first way out of here to Columbus. New York. Refusin' to see me in prison. Charlotte, I cannot be the man you want me to be if you don't even give me a chance."

"I don't deserve you, Forrest."

"There you go, makin' decisions without me. Again."

I start to laugh, sweeping my tears away.

"You gonna give me my kiss now?"

"Ye-"

We're interrupted by a loud horn.

I thought it was Howard excited about my release until we get outside to see him standing on the porch.

Walter sits bloody at Mason's feet.

"We can make this easy," Mason shouts.

"Don't do it, Charlotte," Walter pleas.

Mason strikes him over the head with his gun.

"No, stop," I beg, "I'll go."

Forrest grabs my hand.

I lock eyes with his. "We both know this is the only way. I love you, Forrest."

His eyes well up as his grip starts to loosen. "I love you, too, Charlotte. Always will."

It's the longest walk. I stare up at the man who has ripped my life apart. "I'm here. Let Walter go."

Mason snickers before his expression stiffens.

"No," Forrest screams, followed by Howard.

The barest whiff of smoke permeates from Mason's gun. "Now the **bill** has been paid."

I grab my chest as my shaky hands stain red. Voices start to become muddled. "Forrest," I hiccup **blood**.


	12. Chapter 12

_Epilogue_

* * *

My chest feels heavy, my legs even heavier. The room comes into focus as my eyes adjust to the bright light from the window. I'm alive?

The heaviness is Forrest asleep against my chest.

Howard has his feet propped up and slung over mine. He's passed out in the chair next to me.

"Charlotte," Maggie shouts, scaring the baby in her arms.

His cries wake Howard and Forrest.

Forrest finally gets his kiss, and his forwardness comes as a shock to everyone, including me. "I'll get the nurse," he says.

I cling to Howard's hand. "What happened to Mason?"

"Dead. Forrest made sure of it, and be thankful you weren't around to see it. When you fell to your knees from that gunshot, I lunged for Mason. Forrest shoved me right into the porch beam, running for Mason." Howard shows me the scar on his head.

It must have been a sight to see if Howard is disturbed by it. As much as I'd love to see Mason rot the rest of his worthless existence in jail, the only way I can sleep comfortably is knowing he's dead. "Is Walter okay?"

"That old coot is fine. He's out to eat with that friend of yours from prison. Peggy I think her name is."

"How long have I been unconscious?"

"Three weeks."

Oh my, god.

Maggie and Howard leave me alone with the nurse and Forrest.

"I don't really know how she's alive," the nurse comments, looking over the scar on my chest.

"She's a Bondurant, and we don't lay down for **nobody**."

* * *

It took the better part of a month to get my strength back.

Forrest traces his fingers along my back. "You given any thought to New York?"

I look the drafting table over he's built me. "My home is here. With you. With Lorelai."

"Mmhm."

Only he would be that cavalier about my decision to stay in Franklin. The truth is, family is all I've ever known. It's what I live for.

"You should come to bed."

I back up some against the table and shake my head side to side.

Forrest's lip tugs upward, followed by the hem of my dress.

Might as well get some use out of this table after all.

* * *

_Several months later_

* * *

I stand at the foot of Lorelai's grave. Being separated from her was one of the worst parts about prison. When I look back at everything, it saddens me that she foot Ray's bill. If I could have taken her place, I would have in an instant. I'll never understand her death, but I do have a better understanding of life in general. A father that drank, put Forrest in my life. A sister that shamed our name, gave me a better appreciation for my new name. A man that asked for change, who claimed I saved his life, ended up saving mine.

Jack and Bertha's daughter stands at my feet. "Aunt Charlotte?"

"Yes, Lorelai?"

She presses her hand to my stomach. "Is the baby almost here?"

"Any day now," I smile.

* * *

**A/N I eventually want to do a story with Howard and an OC. He doesn't get enough love! Anyway, thank you again, everyone! -217**


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